Slayers and Sixth Years
by LJL
Summary: COMPLETE - Buffy and co. go to Hogwarts to gather and train Slayers and fight Voldemort. HG
1. The First Chapter

A little bit of background before I get started....this story is a crossover between Buffy and Harry Potter. This angle has been taken several hundred times, but I don't give a damn. It's a good idea. Anyway. Occurs after Order of the Phoenix and S7 Buffy. Enjoy.  
  
"What do we do now, Buffy?" asked the group around her.  
Buffy smiled, slowly. As Faith had pointed out, she wasn't alone anymore. But still, Buffy had a duty.  
"We need to get into contact with all the new Slayers everywhere," she replied.  
"Well...there's only one person I know of who can help us with that," Xander said.  
Everyone looked blank.  
"Angel? Weren't you listening? He owns Wolfram and Hart now," Xander explained, exasperated. "Am I the only one who pays attention to these things?"  
"We were slightly preoccupied with other things, Xander," Willow replied, seriously.  
"Well, who's in favor of going to LA?" Buffy asked.  
"Now this is a democracy?" Giles asked.  
"If you'd rather I told you what to do again...." Buffy asked, trailing off.  
"No!" everyone yelled.  
"Though so. Now, lets try again..."  
"Sounds great," Dawn said, looking around for support.  
"I'm in," Xander replied.  
"Me as well," Giles.  
"Sure," Willow.  
Everyone turned to Faith.  
"Well, I suppose its just a stop off before I head back to jail...so what the hell," she said, grinning.  
"Then its settled," Buffy said, and everyone went back to the bus. But Buffy held Faith back for a moment.  
"Faith...could I have a word with you?" she asked.  
"Sure, B. What's up?" Faith asked.  
"I was thinking...you and I are the only two people alive who really know what its like to be a Slayer. We have a lot of Slayers to train now, so I was wondering if you'd stay with us for a while. You know," Buffy continued, before she lost her resolve, "stay out of jail. Your experience is very valuable. I'd hate to lose that. Besides, I think you've got the whole redemption thing taken care of." She motioned toward the pit that had been Sunnydale.  
"I appreciate that, B, but you're wrong."  
Buffy was puzzled. "Huh?"  
"I'll never 'have the whole redemption thing taken care of'," Faith explained. "Just isn't happening. Sorry," she added, and Buffy could tell that she really was, too.  
"Look," Buffy said, hardening. "You're a murderous bitch, and I doubt that I'll ever really trust you again."  
"Thanks," Faith said, dryly. "That supposed to help convince me?"  
"The point," Buffy said, cutting her off. "is that I need you, despite that. You're the only other person in the world who understands what these girls are about to go through. Why go back to prison if you can do some real good? Sitting in there is doing no good. Your not going to go evil and kill anyone again. Besides," and now, Buffy was gritting her teeth. "the others trust you."  
Faith was mollified. "I don't know, B."  
"Okay, if you're too scared to help, I'll understand." Buffy said, pissed, but secretly desperate. She really did need Faith.  
"Wait a sec, who said anything about scared?" Faith asked.  
"Too scared to help me now that the more difficult work is here. I understand," Buffy said, turning around and praying that this was going to work.  
"I'm not scared!" Faith said. "Its just..."  
"What?" Buffy asked, softening.  
"I got used to the fact that jail was my future," Faith said, looking incredibly like a scared child. "I got used to the fact that it was what I deserved. And I got used to the fact that jail, giving up my freedom, was the only way to make up for my crimes. Think about it, B...what else could I have done?"  
"Nothing, then. But now you can really make a difference." Buffy said, driving her point home.  
Faith still looked a bit unsure. "If you say so, B...I'm gonna trust you on this one."  
Buffy grinned. Phew. That was close. "Good. Go get the bus ready. I'd like a moment alone."  
"Sure thing, B." Faith said, but her expression was, once again, unreadable.  
Buffy once more turned to the ruins of Sunnydale, as Faith walked back to the bus. In spite of all the horrors the damn place put her through...she was still going to miss it. It had been her home, after all. Home... she though. Where will home be now?  
A single tear trickled down her face. But then, it was gone, and she turned away. After all she was the...a...Slayer, and therefore, she had to be strong.  
  
Harry Potter's dreams were being disturbed. Girls...lots of girls...fighting...disfigured men...vampires...a woman with white hair...an enormous spell...an explosion...Harry woke up violently.  
Panting slightly, Harry reached onto his bedside table for a quill, ink, and parchment. Harry had taken to recording all of his odd dreams as soon as they happened, to report to the Order. Intrusion into his dreams had gotten him into enough trouble already.  
Lots of women...girls...fighting vampires, Harry thought as he wrote. The dream was already fading. Woman with white hair casting a spell...really powerful...world wide consequences...It was gone.  
Harry looked down as the few notes he'd taken. Those things he'd managed to write had stayed in his mind, but the rest, if there had been more, was gone.  
Harry took up his quill again. First dream that I've really been suspicious of, he wrote. I'm not really sure if its anything. That's all I can remember. This could very well be nothing. Thanks, Harry Potter.  
Only when he was done did Harry stop to examine the situation. He'd been one track ever since waking - he had to be in order to get the dream into writing. Now, however, he stepped back and looked at his situation.  
Harry had been with the Dursley's for barely a week now. They'd ceased to be horrible to him - Moody's threat was obviously on the minds of his aunt and uncle. They'd also ceased to acknowledge Harry's existence. Harry didn't mind; it was better this way. Besides, Harry didn't really want anyone to talk to.  
Harry sealed up the envelope with his dream letter in it and walked over to Hedwig's cage. He wondered if he were being stupid - it was just a dream, after all. But just a dream had landed him in a rather unpleasant situation, and Harry was determined never to allow that to happen again.  
Harry was half way to Hedwig's perch (the cage simply wasn't necessary now) before he realized that Hedwig was still hunting. Changing direction mid way, Harry went over to the window. Pitch black. Turning back to his clock, Harry came to find out that it was one in the morning. No chance that Hedwig would be back for hours. Might as well get a bit more sleep, Harry thought.  
Nothing doing. He couldn't sleep. The dream had been so vivid...Harry was convinced that it had actually happened. Why he had seen it, though, was a complete mystery.  
Harry mulled things over in his head and considered the possibilities. He had only ever seen stuff like that - clairvoyance, it was called - when Voldemort was somehow involved. But Voldemort hadn't been in the dream...had he?  
There was a deep presence of evil, Harry was sure. And vampires! Harry had never seen a vampire, and yet he was sure that the grossly disfigured things were vampires. Again, how he knew, he wasn't sure. Just another mystery to bring up to the Order.  
Against his will, and his original assumption, Harry dosed off. When he awoke, the sun was shining through the window and Hedwig was upon her perch.  
"Morning, Hedwig," Harry said, distracted.  
Hedwig hooted in response. She already had the letter in her beak. Harry walked over and attached the letter to her leg.  
"Deliver this to the Order's headquarters, okay?" he asked. Hedwig understood. She'd been there several times already that summer.  
As he watched Hedwig fly out the window, Harry wondered what he would do that day. There wasn't much to do, and he was almost bored; almost. The Dursley's weren't even giving him chores to do anymore. He was allowed to prepare his own meals, come and go as he pleased...it was more freedom then Harry had ever enjoyed at Privet Drive.  
Even thus, Harry often found himself bored. The problem was that he simply didn't know what to do with himself. He was almost completely consumed in the events of the last months.  
Knowing that he would have to become a murderer to survive; watching Sirius die; it all seemed to bleed together with all of Harry's previous tortures into one big, swirling ball of misery. His seclusion from his friends seemed only to reinforce this.  
Unable to think of anything better to do, Harry trudged downstairs to have breakfast. Uncle Vernon was already at the table, reading the paper.  
Harry sat down, his eyes blank and unfocused. When he saw the head line of the World Monitor, however, he jumped up with such force that his chair flew back across the room.  
"Give me that!" he yelled, barely remembering who he was yelling at. His focus was entirely on the paper.  
"What...?" Uncle Vernon yelled, startled.  
"The paper! Now!" Harry yelled again.  
For a moment, Uncle Vernon looked outraged. But then, remembering Moody, he deflated.  
"Uh...here..." he said, and retreated quickly, as though afraid that Harry might curse him at any moment.  
Harry ignored Uncle Vernon completely. Instead, he turned to the Monitor and began to read under the line, "American Town Completely Destroyed; No Apparent Cause".  
SUNNYDALE, CA, USA - Once a middle sized, suburban college town, it now appears as though Sunnydale has been completely, and inexplicably, erased from existence.  
Travelers intent on stopping off in Sunnydale last night discovered that the town was little more than an enormous crater. Nothing of the town remains.  
Police, today, are baffled as to what happened.  
"Quite frankly, we don't have a clue," says California State Police Chief Marcus Jones. "Yesterday, Sunnydale was fine. Now it's a big hole in the ground."  
No survivors of the...disappearance...of Sunnydale have yet been found.  
Previously unreleased documents paint a very strange picture of Sunnydale. For starters, the High School, only recently rebuilt after its destruction four years ago, has a student mortality rate of more than forty percent. To top things off, men, women, and children disappear without a trace from Sunnydale's streets on an almost nightly basis.  
Furthermore, reports of gruesome, disfigured creatures have been coming out of Sunnydale for years. In the past seven years we've heard everything from these people - vampires, demons, secret government programs, even fairy tale monsters and hell gods. Now, however, these reports of magical creatures are becoming more believable.  
More information on the apparent destruction of Sunnydale in our next issue - provided that more information becomes available.  
  
Harry was sure that the destruction of this American town had something to do with his dream. Was it possible that he had witnessed the cause of this destruction? But why?  
Harry, boredom forgotten, had transferred over to frustration. He was wholly unprepared for the owl that plummeted through the open kitchen window.  
"Errol!" Harry cried, and picked up the bird, brushing bits of bacon off his wings. Errol hooted, weakly. There was a letter attached to this leg.  
Feeling that the Dursley's fear of him didn't stretch far enough to gloss over an owl demolishing their breakfast table, Harry grabbed Errol and went upstairs with him.  
Once in his own room, Harry detached the letter. Wondering, in the midst of the events of the morning, what was going on now, Harry opened it and read:  
Harry,  
There has been an incident. Arthur has already gone to get you. IT IS IMPERRITIVE THAT WE GET YOU AWAY FROM THE DURSLEY'S. The entire magical world has been destabilized, temporarily. The magic protecting you at Privet Drive may not be in effect right now. Watch your back until Arthur gets there - he's had to use a broom, no Apparition due to this event. Don't worry Harry, but don't get complacent either. See you soon.  
The Weasley's  
  
Harry looked up. Magical world destabilized... he thought. This was colossal. The magic that protected him at the Dursley's was ancient...incredibly powerful. He couldn't imagine anything that was more powerful.  
But, then again, that white-haired witch...she was undoubtedly the cause. She was powerful. And she'd apparently used that power to destroy an entire town.  
Harry looked out the window. It was crazy to think that Voldemort would be there. After all, there was little chance that Voldemort even knew that Harry was vulnerable.  
Realizing that Mr. Weasley would be arriving soon, and that he would need to be ready when Mr. Weasley arrived, Harry began to pack, fast. The noise attracted Aunt Petunia.  
"What are you doing, boy?" she asked.  
"Leaving," Harry replied, shortly.  
"You know your not allowed..." Aunt Petunia began, but Harry interrupted her.  
"I am now," he said, and thrust the letter at her.  
She read it, and then, her eyes widening, bolted from the room. Harry heard her yelling that they needed to go, quickly.  
Harry, himself, sped up. Somehow, Aunt Petunia's panic had worried him, too. It really shouldn't have; he should have expected it; but still, hearing it out loud was unnerving.  
As he was finishing with his trunk and dragging it down the stairs, he heard the front door open.  
"Harry?" it was Mr. Weasley.  
"I'm here! Just getting my stuff," Harry replied from the stairs.  
"Quick, Harry! I've got your trunk. Get on your Firebolt. Don't wait for me, just go! I'll catch up," he said, heaving the trunk onto Ron's Cleansweep 11 and muttering a charm for lessening the weight.  
Harry didn't stop to consider. He jumped onto his Firebolt and took off, pelting for the Burrow.  
As Harry ascended and pointed his broom in the direction of the Burrow, he looked back. Mr. Weasley was lifting off. Just then, 4 Privet Drive exploded.  
"Mr. Weasley!" Harry yelled, for he could not see Mr. Weasley.  
"I'm fine! Just go!" Mr. Weasley's voice came through the smoke, though Harry still could not see him.  
The urgency in his voice made up Harry's mind - he dove straight for the house, looking to help Mr. Weasley. But instead of finding Mr. Weasley with that look, Harry found five Death Eaters...and Lord Voldemort, staring up at him with a bone chilling grin.  
  
That's it for the first chapter...I don't know when/if I'll come out with a second one. Please r/r and let me know if you want more, what you'd have changed, what you want to see...you probably know the drill. I like flames, too, so if you feel compelled to call my work a 'pile of lice infested rabbit dung', go ahead. That's it for now... 


	2. The Second Chapter

Arriving in LA for the first time in three years, Buffy didn't really know what to expect. Oh, she'd gotten the low down from Willow: the Hyperion, the green singing demon, and Angel's son (!). And Cordelia...how much she'd changed! Though they had never been very close, Buffy was still upset at finding out that Cordelia was in a coma.  
LA itself was a mess - signs of the recent anarchy were everwhere. As the bus drove threw one of the comerical districts on the way to the Hyperion, Buffy turned to Willow and commented on the devastation.  
"Yeah..." Willow had replied, but she had seemed too stunned to really formulate a response.  
It seemed as though no little bit of LA had gone unscathed. There was trash everywhere...building were visibly falling apart...looting...people living on the streets...it was appalling.  
It took nearly twenty minutes of that to reach Angel's hotel. As they were pulling up in front of the hotel, Buffy noticed that it, too, had been damaged, but, unlike most of LA, repairs had already begun.  
All the lights seemed to be on in the hotel, even though it was nearing midnight. Of course, Buffy thought, Angel - vampire - night. Makes sense.  
What didn't make sense, at first, was when Angel, Fred, and Wesley all came running out, shouting their heads off.  
"Where were -"  
"-worried-"  
"-nothing left - just a crater..."  
Angel took a second to come himself and his colleagues. Apparently, he failed at the former.  
"WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU CALL!!??" he shouted. He was so angry that his face had changed over. "I'VE BEEN SITTING HERE, GETTING READY TO FIGHT A WAR, AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER TO CALL ME!!????"  
"Uhh...." Buffy replied. She certainly hadn't expected this. "I thought Faith would call."  
Everyone turned to Faith. "Don't look at me, I thought Xander would handle it."  
Xander looked up upon hearing his name. "Huh?" he asked, and everyone groaned.  
"Well, it appears that we are all the victims of a mutual misunderstanding," Giles said, braking the uncomfortable silence.  
"Yeah," Buffy said, but she really had no idea what to say. Any and all clever speeches she'd prepared for this occasion had all run like hell from her brain the second Angel started yelling.  
"Um...would you like to come inside?" Angel asked.  
"Yeah...that's what we came for."  
The Hyperion looked worse on the inside. The walls were stained and cracking. What they were stained with, Buffy did not allow herself to notice. Dawn, however, did, and was soon afterwards violently ill.  
"Here," Fred said, taking the sick Dawn by the shoulders and leading her out of the hall. "The bathroom is just down here, dear."  
"Sorry we didn't have a chance to clean up a bit more," Angel apologized to Buffy as the Slayers sat down. "But we've been rather busy with other things. The vampires have been out in force since Jasmine's death."  
"Who is Jasmine?" Buffy asked.  
"That's a bit of a long story," Wesley answered, and, eying the tired Slayerettes, added, "Why don't we find rooms for all the young ones first?"  
"Right," Buffy said, and she turned to the group. "Everyone follow Wesley, he'll get you settled in."  
As Wesley motioned the group up the stairs, Willow and Giles detached themselves from it to stand with Buffy.  
"Who's Jasmine?" Buffy repeated.  
"Was," Angel replied, and he looked troubled. "Jasmine was Cordelia's child."  
"Cordelia has a child?" Buffy asked, slightly startled.  
"Yeah. Long story there too. The point is that she enslaved peoples minds, making them think she was bringing peace. But unfortunately, she ate people, so that wasn't so good," Angel explained.  
"She ate people?" Willow asked.  
"Yeah. So we got rid of her. I killed her," Angel said, looking even more troubled.  
"What is it?" Buffy asked.  
"What?" Angel replied, coming out of his trance.  
"Its just that you look more absorbed in thought than you used to," Buffy said.  
"Something that Wolfram and Hart said afterward," Angel said. "We ended world peace."  
Recovering quickly, Willow said, "Well...their evil, right?"  
There was silence for a moment, then Angel replied. "Right...you're probably exhausted. You can have the mater bedrooms. Their around the back," And he lead them away.  
  
"Voldemort!" Harry yelled.  
"Well, its good to see you remember me, Harry," Voldemort said. "I was afraid you'd forgotten me."  
Choosing not to reply, Harry, instead, yelled, "Where's Mr. Weasley?"  
"Ahh...the muggle lover! Yes, Lucius mentions him often. How lucky that he's the one who tried to help you...he was on the list anyway..." Voldemort's perpetual grin grew wider. "There he is. Why not try to help him?"  
Mr. Weasley was laying, charred slightly, near the ruins of the house. Harry shifted on his broom. In order to get at Mr. Weasley, he was going to need to go straight past the assemblage of Death Eaters.  
Wonderful, thought Harry. Why do these things happen to me?  
"Coming...no? Well then. Weasley here has a long overdue nap, I believe..." Voldemort turned, raising his wand. Harry dove.  
Instantly, Voldemort whipped around and shouted, "Avada Kedavara!", but Harry was no longer where he was two seconds before.  
Realizing that it was only a matter of time before Voldemort, and his Death Eaters, found their marksmanship and learned to lead him enough.  
As curses began whizzing past from all the Death Eaters, Harry began an aggressive series of dodges. Silently thanking Oliver Wood for all those late Quidditch practices, Harry let his training take over his body while his mind worked out a way to get to Mr. Weasley.  
Think! Come on, think, damn it! Nothing doing. Wait! What was it Wood always said about flying? When I was first learning? Racking his brains as an Impediment Curse shot past. Damn it! What was that! He said I was a natural because I could...damn...think in three dimensions! That's it! With this enlightenment, a plan sprang into Harry's head.  
Thinking that the chances that he would survive were slim, Harry focused his attention on the space above Mr. Weasley and rocketed towards it.  
As the Death Eaters saw his pattern straighten out, they began shooting spells in a leading pattern. But just before he would have been hit, Harry released his grip on his broom.  
Giving a yell of surprise, the Death Eaters, who had surrounded Mr. Weasley on the ground, rushed in to meet Harry. But it was already too late.  
Seconds before hitting the ground, Harry raised his wand and yelled, "Accio broom!"  
His Firebolt reversed and screamed towards him. He caught it just as he grabbed Mr. Weasley. The speed of the broom caught them both up, sweeping them away, into the sky, and towards the Burrow. 


	3. The Third Chapter

Here's the third chapter. I know they're all pretty short, and chances are that this isn't coming out for a while. I write slowly and far between, so please, don't get your hopes up. Thanks to all my reviewers - I never expected to have reviewers in the first place. I have inferiority issues. Now that this blurb is getting just bit too personal, I'm thinking its story time.  
  
For a second, Faith didn't know where she was. Waking up in a strange room was something from her past. Her cell wasn't comfortable, but it was.home.  
Light. There was light here. Blinking, Faith sat up. Oh, yeah. Apocalypse. Breaking out of jail. The First. Right.damn sleep.  
Rising from her bed, Faith glanced at her clock. 6:00. Buffy might be up. Maybe. Then again, she was the person who had done the most, physically, in the fight against the First. She deserved, and could have used, a good solid week of sleep. But Buffy had been a Slayer longer than any of them. She was used to operating on no sleep.  
Faith dressed quickly. She'd found that her appearance had become somewhat less important to her during her imprisonment. Now, she didn't have a clue what was 'in' and what wasn't, and furthermore, she didn't care.  
Leaving her room with the intent of finding some food, Faith ran headlong into Wood.  
"Surprise," Wood said, rubbing his head where it had connected with Faith's.  
"I wish you'd stop doing that," she said, eying him appraisingly. Wood had just been one of her toys.but he'd stuck around after she was done with him. Weird guy. Nice guy.  
"I was just coming to see if you were up. In case you wanted to find a bite to eat before the big rush," Wood explained.  
"The big rush'?" Faith asked.  
"Everyone was exhausted after the fight and all the driving. Now that's taken care of, they'll all be ravenous. Twenty famished teenage girls."  
"I see your point," Faith said quickly. An ugly picture of Kennedy and a mountain of ice cream had entered her head.  
"Lets see if we can't find a café or something," Wood said, offering his arm to Faith.  
"Sure," she replied, but declined the arm. Wood shrugged. At least she wants to eat with me.  
As Wood and Faith were leaving the hotel, Buffy Summers was stirring in her room. She'd had the first decent night's sleep in about a month. Probably longer.  
As a result of her slumber, her hair was a mess, which she found quite distressing. She really wanted to make Angel drool, even after all these years.  
"Oh, no," she muttered as she looked in the mirror.  
As she brushed her hair, Buffy reflected on the fact that she hadn't woken up with thoughts of the First on her mind. It had been a good long time since that had happened, too. But then, she always woke up thinking about one of her foes - current or previous.  
She'd actually dreamt of the Master the night before. Usually, Buffy didn't 'dream' about the Master; those were nightmares. But not last night. She'd dreamt that the Master had been dancing around singing show tunes to an old hag with a hat made out of toilet paper. And a guy selling cheese, whatever that was all about.  
Buffy had never had an amusing dream about the Master. The memory of what he'd done to her was simply too traumatic. But she'd had her share of traumatic and then some - really, an old, stuffy vampire with fruit punch mouth actually did seem quite amusing now. He'd killed her - so what? She'd died again, and that was, inadvertently, because of Glory, and Glory was a god. And besides all that, she'd come back again, hadn't she? No big.  
Once her hair was in better shape, Buffy dressed. She regretted having only one outfit here - all of her clothes were swallowed up in the Hellmouth.  
Heading outside her room, Buffy looked down the corridor. Faith's door was ajar. Buffy looked inside a second later, to find the room deserted and a mess.  
Slob, Buffy thought. She'd never get over her dislike of Faith. The fact that her room was just as messed up never so much as entered her mind. Buffy descended the stairs to find breakfast.  
I guess that some Slayers have a particular talent for messing things up.  
Some, indeed. As Kennedy rose from the bed she shared with Willow, she looked around the room they had inhabited for a single night and took in the devastation.  
I am the messiest person alive, she thought.  
"Second. Buffy is worse," Willow said, her eyes still closed.  
Kennedy turned back to Willow. "You're listening to my thoughts?"  
"Only when I'm bored," Willow replied, opening her eyes and gazing affectionately at Kennedy.  
"Bored, huh? I'll see if I can't do something about that!" Kennedy yelled pouncing with Slayer speed back onto the bed.  
We won't go into what they did next. Suffice it to say that they were late for breakfast.  
Xander awoke slowly, opening one eye, then attempting to open the other one before realizing that it didn't exist anymore.  
Oh, yeah. Thanks Caleb.  
Xander pulled back the covers and got up. Across the room, Giles was still asleep. Xander attempted to cross the room and put something on quietly. He failed miserably.  
Later, Xander would say it was the lamp fell entirely on its own without any stimulus from him. But the casual observer would have noticed him trip, fall, and grab it for support.  
Funny how that works out.  
"What.!" Giles bolted upright.  
"Don't worry, G-Man.the lamp fell," Xander replied, rising to his feet.  
"Yes.and don't call me that," Giles added, wearily.  
"Sleep well?" Xander asked.  
"Despite your infernal snoring.yes, I did, thank you," Giles replied.  
"Uh.yeah. I'm hungry. You want something?" he asked.  
"No, thank you. I'll come with you, and get some tea," Giles said.  
"Wow.you're in stereotypical British guy mode," Xander said.  
"Xander, you already woke me up. Must you insult me now, too?"  
"No, sir. See you downstairs," and he left.  
Giles shook his head. Why did I get paired with Xander, of all people? He asked himself. Why not.Wood? He seemed nice enough. He wouldn't have woken me at six in the morning, anyway.  
As the morning progressed, more and more of the Sunnydale survivors awoke and wondered downstairs in search of nourishment. Faith and Wood had gotten back from their own breakfast just as Kennedy and Willow were immerging from their bedroom.  
Eying both couples appraisingly, Buffy turned to Wesley and Angel.  
"Now that everyone is here, we can have the meeting," she stated.  
"Would you mind explaining what happened, first? Is the First gone?" Angel asked.  
So Buffy explained. The idea. The scythe. The spell. All the potentials in the world becoming Slayers. She finished with the fight and Spike's sacrifice. Gunn whistled.  
"All the girls who were potentials? That must be thousands by now." he said.  
"Are you positive this was a wise course of action?" Wesley asked, addressing Buffy.  
"Wesley, it was the only course of action," Willow answered, before Buffy could come up with a response.  
Wesley shrugged. "Necessary or not, it is done. And it seems to have accomplished your goals. My contacts in the demonic underworld have reported that the First has not been heard of since the battle in Sunnydale,"  
"So we killed the evil bastard," Kennedy said, slightly exalted.  
"No.I'm afraid not," Wesley said, looking pointedly at Kennedy.  
"What?" The group yelled, mingling fear and despair. It wasn't over?  
It was Buffy who supplied the reason. "The First couldn't be killed. It's the source of all evil, folks. So as long as there's evil in this realm, the First will still exist."  
Wesley looked pleasantly surprised. "I couldn't have explained it better myself," he said, nodding with respect at Buffy. "The First still lives, in its own sense, but its plans seemed to have been foiled for now."  
"And that leads us to our reason for being here," Buffy stated. "Now that the First is gone, or foiled, or.whatever.we have the issue of all these Slayers to look after. Our first thoughts were to consult the Watcher's Council.but as you know, they got blown up, so I don't think they'd be much help. So, we thought that."  
"We could use Wolfram and Hart to help you search out these Slayers?" Wesley finished. Buffy nodded.  
"Fred is the one who knows the most about our capabilities here," Angel said.  
Everyone turned to Fred. "Sorry - we don't have that range on any of our instruments, scientific or magical or both. Our reference library might be of some help, but you won't find the names of every potential in there. Wolfram and Hart doesn't concern itself much with the Slayer.Slayers," she added, looking apologetic.  
"Then we came down here for nothing." Faith said, trailing off sadly.  
"Not for nothing," Angel said quickly. "You needed a place to stay, and I'm sure we'll find some way."  
"I might be able to help you," Wesley cut off. He'd obviously been considering this very carefully. "But, if I do, you'll have to be sworn to complete secrecy. This is the best kept secret in more than a thousand years."  
Buffy considered. This had to be done. "We'll swear," she said, looking around for consent. No one challenged her.  
"It's a bit out of the box," Wesley explained. "A school for Witchcraft and Wizardry, where young people with innate magic go to learn how to control their powers. They have a means of devising which children have magic and which don't. It could be used to detect Slayers," he said.  
Everyone was stunned. "And you never told us about this place because.?" Angel asked.  
"Everyone who attends is sworn into secrecy about it," Wesley explained. "The punishment is rather harsh."  
"What's this place called?" Buffy asked.  
"Hogwarts," Wesley said. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."  
  
Harry had been looking forward to going to the Burrow all summer. When bored, he'd even imagined what it would be like when he arrived.  
None of those imagining's had included clutching Mr. Weasley's limp, burnt form as he flew.  
As the wind blew around him, Harry wondered what he would find when he arrived at the Burrow. He hadn't seen his trunk when he'd rescued Mr. Weasley - perhaps it had been destroyed in the explosion? Having no possessions, and no clothing, would be a problem. He could afford more things - but the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map were irreplaceable, as were several of his more personal belongings.  
Harry glanced back over his shoulder. He wasn't being followed. Voldemort hadn't expected Harry to run away, and he certainly hadn't expected him to get away.  
He really ought to start preparing for that, Harry thought, as he changed his course a little bit. Mad-Eye Moody's flight path to Order headquarters came back to Harry. Moody had advised a longer, harder to follow pattern that was devised to throw off pursuers. Then, there had been none. Now, there was a chance that there were. Harry's insides squirmed. He'd pulled an insane stunt back there. He doubted that his luck would hold up again.  
Weaving slightly, Harry decided that he would play it safe. Just in case, Harry thought.  
Two hours later, Harry was wishing that he hadn't decided to follow a zigzagging path. He was incredibly cold. What was worse, Mr. Weasley seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep. His body was still limp - making it heavier and harder to carry.  
The sun was setting as Harry came in sight of the Burrow. He felt exhausted - a confrontation with Voldemort and a cross country broom ride carrying a limp man were enough to thoroughly drain him of his strength.  
As he landed on the Weasley's lawn, he heard an almost unearthly scream. Instantly alert, Harry whipped out his wand and searched for the danger.  
There wasn't any. Mrs. Weasley was flying out of the house, closely followed by Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny.  
"Harry! Arthur! We were so worried." Mrs. Weasley shrieked.  
"Nice save, Harry!" Fred said, genuinely in awe.  
"Yeah.that was the most incredible thing I've ever seen, mate," George said.  
"It was just luck.but how did you guys know about that?" Harry asked, bewildered. It had been him, the Death Eater's, Voldemort, and Mr. Weasley. There was simply no way anyone else could have been there.  
"We saw the whole thing on the Wizard Watch Dumbledore set up outside your house," Ron explained.  
"What's a Wizard Watch?" Harry asked.  
"It's like a muggle camera," Ginny explained. "It transmits an image of its focal area directly to certain fires. We had an extra fire place installed so we could keep it on all the time." She indicated a newer, twisted chimney.  
"Right." Harry said, gazing up at the new chimney. He wondered if this invasion of his privacy should make him angry. All it seemed to do was make him tired.  
Mrs. Weasley was on the ground, checking Mr. Weasley over to see if he was all right. "Just knocked out.those burns aren't that bad.nothing I can't cure.anyway.and St. Mungo's doesn't have the room for anyone else right now."  
"Why not?" Harry asked, curious. He still didn't know exactly what was going on.  
"That's a long story, dear," Mrs. Weasley replied guardedly. "Lets get Arthur inside, shall we? Come on, Fred, George, get under an arm."  
"Why don't you just levitate him?" asked Fred.  
"Because - I don't want to risk using magic until everything is sorted out," Mrs. Weasley replied wearily.  
"Until what is sorted out?" Harry asked, feeling his temper rising. Hadn't they dropped the whole 'leaving Harry in the dark' thing last year?  
"You look exhausted, Harry. Perhaps you should get some sleep before we go into a big, complicated explanation," Mrs. Weasley said, eyeing Harry as the twins brought their father inside. They got in, and Mr. Weasley was lain down on a couch. Mrs. Weasley bustled off to prepare a potion to help with the burns.  
Harry looked around. It was the same Burrow he'd known and loved for five years now, except for a few key differences. The great Weasley clock was where it always had been; but now, Mr. Weasley's hand seemed to be transitioning itself from "Mortal Peril" to "Home". Another hand had been added, too. As Harry looked closer, he saw Fleur Delacour's face on it. He looked Ron questioningly.  
"Why is Fleur on your clock?" he asked.  
"Bill," Ron replied, slightly put out. "They decided to marry a couple of weeks ago. It was a small wedding. Kind of nice, actually. A little church, about twenty guests, no clothes." Ron trailed off.  
"No.clothes?" Harry asked, bewildered. He knew that Bill was a bit strange, but this.  
"Veela tradition. Even though Fleur is only part Veela, she insisted," Ginny explained.  
"So you went to his wedding.naked?" Harry asked her, forgetting Ron for a second.  
"Yes," she said. "Too bad you missed it." she immediately realized what she was implying and turned red.  
Deciding to leave Ginny the embarrassment of further conversation, Harry went back to looking around the room. The new fireplace was in a corner of the room previously occupied by a small painting of a dragon.  
As Harry looked into the flames, he saw a smoldering ruin.  
"That's.what's left.isn't it?" he asked. He hadn't had time to sort out his feelings about the destruction of Privet Drive. Now that he had time, Harry felt slightly sad. Damn, he thought, I hated that place. Why do I miss it?  
"Yeah," Ron said, breaking into Harry's pensive moment.  
"Not much, eh? Well, good riddance," Harry said.  
"The muggles made it out all right." Ron said. "In case you were wondering."  
"Yeah. Well, I expect that's the end," Harry said. "There's no way Uncle Vernon will ever have me back now. Blood curses and everything, I expect he'll go to whatever ends necessary to insure that I never live with them again."  
Mrs. Weasley returned from the kitchen with Mr. Weasley's burn potion. "You'll always be welcome here, dear. Now, don't you want to go up to bed.?" she asked.  
"No.not yet, thanks. I think I'd like to know what's going on, first," Harry said firmly.  
"Yes.well.I'm not sure if its my place to tell you all that, Harry," she said, worriedly. She glanced at the fire and yelped.  
It had flared up green for a moment, and several people were stepping through the flames. Harry recognized most of them.  
First came Mad-Eye Moody, closely followed by Tonks and Lupin. Kingsley Shacklebolt came through next, with Mundungus Fletcher and, finally, Professor Dumbledore and a boy Harry didn't recognize.  
"Oh, thank God," Lupin said, as he spotted Harry. "We were worried sick. When he finally managed to get to Privet Drive, you were all gone,"  
"Apparition was getting thrown off," Tonks explained. "We ended up in Finland the first time we tried."  
"Why was Apparition getting thrown off?" Harry asked, wondering if the question was ever going to get answered.  
"Now that we are all assembled, I believe we can give a full account of the day's occurrences," Dumbledore said, motioning for a chairs. They came zooming out of the kitchen of their own accord.  
"Have a seat. This will take a while," he added. "Tonks, you were the one on duty this morning. You know the happenings better than any of us. Why don't you tell everyone exactly what's been going on?"  
"Okay, Dumbledore," she replied. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "This morning, we got word that Voldemort had attacked the American Wizards Academy. There was only one survivor," she said. Harry, along with the Weasleys, was shocked.  
"Only one.?" he asked.  
"Yes," Dumbledore jumped in. "That's Craig here."  
Harry and the rest looked over at the boy who had, until then, gone unnoticed. He looked fairly ordinary, at first glance. His hair was blonde and stuck out in many directions. His eyes were a cool gray, and they seemed to look right past everything in the room, as though he were looking and focusing on something far away. The rest of his features were fairly average. Harry could guess that he was about six foot one (A/N: I know the British use metrics. I don't have the time nor the inclination to convert). There wasn't anything remarkable about him - except those eyes.  
"Craig was the only survivor of the attack. I went personally to pick him up. He'll be joining us at Hogwarts this year," Dumbledore continued.  
"Anyway," Tonks went on. "That was bad enough. Then we got Harry's owl at headquarters. At first, we hadn't a clue as to what his dream meant," Tonks drew in another breath, as though resigned to continue. "Then the bomb really dropped."  
"The what?" asked Ron.  
"Never mind. Something else happened in America yesterday. Something huge. We're not sure what," she said, looking a bit frustrated at the idea. "but we will find out. All we know right now is what the muggles know."  
"And that is.?" Harry asked.  
"Sunnydale, California, has been destroyed completely. That's the place you saw in your dream, Harry."  
Harry let out his breath, slowly. Sunnydale, California.he'd never heard of it. "But why did I see it in a dream?" he asked.  
Dumbledore looked around before answering. "Harry, Sunnydale is.was.the location of an extremely powerful Dark landmark. A Hellmouth," Dumbledore explained. "Voldemort gained quite a bit of his power from this particular Hellmouth, as it has always been the most active one in the world. He still, to this day, derives power from it. Its disruption, or even possibly, destruction, would hurt him greatly. That is why you could see it happening," Dumbledore explained. Then he added, "I think."  
Everyone was too dumfounded to speak for a moment. Then, Harry ventured a new question. "What is a Hellmouth?"  
Lupin answered. "A Hellmouth is a gateway to a Hell dimension. One of the worst, actually," he said. "Countless demons and other Dark creatures live there, some of which no wizard has ever seen. Hellmouths also emanate Dark energy - causing normal corpses to arise as vampires, and attracting demons and Dark wizards alike."  
The silence returned. Harry looked around to gauge everyone's reaction. Shacklebolt and Tonks were professionally emotionless and unreadable; so was Dumbledore. Lupin was visibly worried, looking from Harry to the visage of Privet Drive and back again. Moody's face - what was left of it - was unreadable as well. The boy, Craig, seemed to still be a long ways off, looking at something unseen. The look was a lot like Luna Lovegood's, only hers was always happy; this boy was clearly not a happy young man. Ron seemed concerned about the occurrences described, but he wasn't betraying as much of his emotional state as usual. The twins were listening with rapt attention; Harry supposed that they were nearing the time when they would be allowed into the Order officially, and they wanted to get a feel for what was what. Ginny was staring openly at Harry, an expression of mingled concern and fear on her face. Mrs. Weasley was looking concerned as well.  
"Well.now what?" Ron asked.  
Blank stares abounded.  
"What do we do now?" he rephrased.  
"Now," Dumbledore said, a little of the usual twinkle returning to his eye. "We will be so imposing as to ask if dinner is in the offing."  
Mrs. Weasley smiled for the first time that evening. "Of course, Dumbledore. If you'll give me some time, I'll prepare something for everyone. Boys, if you'll go out and set the table." and she left, with Fred and George following.  
Lupin came up to Harry and promptly gave him a big hug. "We were very worried," he said, pulling back.  
"Yeah.sorry," Harry said.  
"No, its not your fault. If only we'd been able to get there sooner! But the destruction of the AWA and the Hellmouth has thrown the entire magical world into a sort of flux. It'll settle down eventually, but for now." he trailed off. "Its just good to see you safe and sound."  
"Yeah. It's good to be safe and sound." Harry attempted a joke. Lupin smiled.  
"Could I have a word with Harry.alone, Remus?" Dumbledore asked.  
"Of course, Professor," Lupin said, and walked in the direction of the kitchen.  
"Harry - out here, please," Dumbledore motioned towards the door.  
As they stepped outside, Harry glanced at Dumbledore. Oh, great, he thought. More bad news.  
"What is it, Professor?" Harry asked.  
Dumbledore drew a deep breath. "Professor Trelawney arrived back at Hogwarts just yesterday, Harry," he began.  
".So?" Harry asked. He was a little upset by this, sure: Professor Trelawney's class was one of his least favorites. It had been a little more bearable with Firenze teaching it - but only a little.  
"She has given another prophesy," Dumbledore continued. Harry's entire demeanor shifted from casual indifference to intense focus in an instant.  
"A.real one?" He asked, hesitantly. Dumbledore had always been the first to acknowledge that most of Trelawney's predictions were somewhat less than honest.  
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "The trance is unmistakable. As I'm sure you can attest," he said. "Harry, I'll level with you: this new prophesy is bad."  
"Does it." Harry faltered, then tried again. "Does it say that Voldemort is the one who will win? When we.we have to fight?"  
"No," said Dumbledore, and Harry was immediately relieved. Living with the notion that he would have to become a murderer to survive was bad. Living knowing that he would be murdered would be worse. "What it said was this. I'm not telling the others, because the lesser the amount of people who know, the better. But as it concerns you more than anyone, you deserve, more than anyone, to know.  
"Harry, this entire war depends on what happens between you and Voldemort. I know, you already know that only one of you can survive," he added, seeing the look on Harry's face. "But it goes deeper than that, I'm afraid. The very state of the war between Dark and Light, good and evil, depends on your own personal war against Voldemort.  
"When Voldemort destroyed the AWA, he struck us a grievous blow. The wizarding schools have always been believed to be the safest places on the planet, you see," Dumbledore said, with a suppressed note of pride. "But then the Hellmouth in Sunnydale was destroyed, too. Yes, Harry, I believe that the Hellmouth there has been closed. Our side has always lacked the ability to close a Hellmouth, so such a victory has never been possible.  
"You're probably wondering what any of that has to do with you. Here it is, Harry: You and Voldemort are at an equilibrium. Neither of you has the upper hand on the other. Your own personal war - the one around which the first prophesy revolves - is at an equilibrium. Therefore, so is the overall war between good and evil. Until one of you defeats the other, until one of you kills the other, the war cannot progress. Any victory for our side will be responded to immediately by an equally important victory for their side.  
"I'm afraid that the entire war seems to rest on your shoulders now, Harry. Until you kill Voldemort, or he kills you, we cannot defeat his forces."  
Harry sat there, looking off into the distance as Dumbledore went back inside. The weight of the world. he thought. Why did my life have to suck? After a few moments, Harry went back inside. Suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the day's tasks, Harry skipped dinner and went straight up to bed.  
  
There it is! Three chapters! And this one's a monster - doubles my word count. Anyway, thanks to my reviewers. Word for Mac does some wacky things with HTML, so I decided to go with TXT instead. It removes most formatting, but its better than having all the weird characters everywhere. And the spacing issues - which, by the way, I can't seem to see - I hope have been dealt with. So if y'all could tell me if this is better (1.5 line spacing rather than single) that'd be peachy. Station! 


	4. The Fourth Chapter

Once again, thanks to all my reviewers! I really can't say how much your input means to me. Sorry if my grammar and spelling aren't perfect - I'm only human. And formatting...I've given up on it. Perhaps there will come a day when I can actually format my stories perfectly, so that everyone has a good chance at being able to read them. That day is a long, long way off. Keep reading, and remember...R/R!!!  
  
To Wesley's slight surprise, Buffy and the rest laughed. "Hogwarts? Who came up with that name?"  
Wesley blinked. "Hogwarts was named more than a thousand years ago by the four greatest witches and wizards of the time," he said, looking a bit confused. He'd heard a lot of opinions about Hogwarts before; no one had ever found it funny.  
"They must have been pretty crazy," Dawn said, still chuckling.  
"Well, I suppose they were," Wesley said, regaining his composure. "but they were still the greatest sorcerers of that time. They started Hogwarts to educate children in the ways of magic.  
"I attended Hogwarts when I was eleven years old. Afterwards, I decided to join the Watcher's Council. Strangely, neither entity knows of the others existence,"  
"So these Logquart people don't know about the Slayers?" Buffy asked.  
"Hogwarts," Wesley corrected. "And no, they don't. I've always found it rather amusing that I'm the only person alive privy to information about both," he smiled at nothing in particular. Realizing that everyone was still watching him, Wesley cleared his throat and went back to his explanation.  
"Hogwarts is constantly in search of new students. There are the children of known wizards, of course - most children with magical parents are magical themselves, with a few rare exceptions - and there are the children of mixed parentage. These are becoming more and more common now," he added.  
"Why?" asked Willow.  
"There are only so many all wizarding families, Willow," replied Wesley. "By now, they are all related to one and other. Too much inbreeding leads to -"  
"Yes, we get the idea," Xander jumped in. No need to disgust the young Slayers.  
"Anyway, half-bloods, as they are called, are fairly easy to monitor as well. The real challenge comes from those children whose parents have no magic. There is a magical...well, you would think of it as a machine, I suppose, that can determine which children have magical potential."  
The Slayers took a moment to take this all in. "How can we get in touch with this place?" Buffy asked.  
"Generally, one sends an owl with postage," Wesley replied. "Owls deliver the mail in the wizarding world."  
"Owls?" Dawn asked.  
Seeing the conversation turning in a direction that was not forward, Buffy jumped in. "Okay, we're in."  
When no one reacted, Buffy said, "Well? What are you all waiting for?"  
Giles leaned in. "They're waiting for you to tell them what to do."  
"Oh," she replied. "Um - we need to talk to whoever runs this Hogwarts place."  
"That would be Albus Dumbledore," Wesley said. "Headmaster."  
"Right," Buffy said. She looked around, then focused again on Wesley. "Wesley, unless you have an owl lying around, is there any other way we can ask him about our...situation?"  
Wesley considered this for a second. Then, the light bulb came on. "Floo powder!"  
Blank stares abounded yet again. "It allows people to travel from fireplace to fireplace around the world," he explained.  
This was getting more complicated by the second. Buffy wondered whether she would be able to handle all the new stuff they would need to remember. Floo powder? Give me a break.  
"Where can we get some of this...uh...Floo powder?" asked Buffy.  
"I have some, actually," Wesley said. "Its useful for other types of spells, too."  
"Could we be so imposing as to borrow some?" Giles asked.  
"Oh, yes, of course."  
While Wesley hurried away to the storage compartments to find his Floo powder, Buffy turned to Angel, who had been silent for most of the meeting. "What do you think of all this?"  
"What?" he replied.  
"Oh, everything," Buffy said, looking at the casually chatting crowd of Slayers. "Hogwarts, hundreds of Slayers worldwide, no more Hellmouth. Its all so confusing,"  
"Yes," Angel said. "But you'll get through it, Buffy. You've had your share of confusing, and you're still alive. Again."  
"Thanks," Buffy said, in a dry sort of way. But Angel's words had been comforting, in there own way.  
"Anytime," he replied, and grinned. Buffy was shocked. Angel never smiled.  
Shaking it off, Buffy looked up as Wesley reentered the room with what looked like a bucket filled with powder.  
"This is it," he announced. "All we need is a fire."  
After a moment of bustling that accomplished nothing, Willow lit a fire.  
Everyone gathered around the fireplace apprehensively. Wesley tossed in the powder, and immediately, the fire roared up, changing from a calm red to a brilliant, dazzling green.  
Wesley winked at the crowd and stuck his head into the flames. Despite gasps from several of the Slayers, Wesley seemed unhurt.  
"Hogwarts!" He yelled clearly.  
A second later, a scream came through from the other end.  
  
Harry awoke the next morning to hear screaming. For a second, he was sure that the screaming was simply part of the dream he'd been having; but then he was sure that it wasn't.  
Leaping out of bed and running downstairs, Harry found Ginny leaning up against a wall, panting, and a man's head sticking out of the fire.  
"What's going on?" he asked hurriedly.  
"Is this Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" the man's head asked.  
"He just appeared out of no where...no warning..." Ginny seemed to be calming slightly, but Harry still placed himself between her and the fire, just to be safe.  
"Who are you?" Harry asked the man.  
"My name is Wesley Windham-Pryce," the head replied. "Is this Hogwarts?" he asked again.  
At this point, Mrs. Weasley came rushing in. "Ginny, dear, what's the - my word! Wesley!" Mrs. Weasley fairly screeched.  
"Molly!" the head, Wesley, replied, equally surprised.  
"But - what are you doing here, Wesley? Why, I haven't heard from you in ages!" Mrs. Weasley said.  
"I'm looking for Dumbledore - isn't this Hogwarts?" Wesley the disembodied head replied.  
"No - the Floo Network still hasn't been restored," Mrs. Weasley said, drawing up a chair.  
"Restored? What happened?" Wesley asked. Harry could distinctly hear other voices in back of Wesley, though what they were saying was impossible to tell.  
"You haven't heard? Oh, Wesley, its terrible! The AWA - its gone. Destroyed. Only one of the students survived," Mrs. Weasley said.  
Wesley's face fell. So did his head, in such a manner that Harry got the impression that his knee's had given out and he was now sitting, rather than kneeling.  
"Gone?" he asked, thunderstruck.  
"Yes. You-Know-Who attacked it just last week, the day before their term was to end -"  
"Voldemort?" asked Wesley, and his voice seemed to go rather high pitched for a moment.  
"Yes - took out the entire complex. The parents showed up the day after to pick up their children, and they found...they found..." Mrs. Weasley couldn't bring herself to say it.  
"Voldemort is back?" Wesley asked, seeming faint.  
"Yes," Mrs. Weasley said, recovering slightly. "Where have you been, Wesley?"  
"Elsewhere," Wesley replied, and Harry could tell that, despite his stricken state, he was still concealing something.  
"There's more, Wesley. The Sunnydale Hellmouth was closed," Mrs. Weasley added.  
"I know," Wesley said.  
"You heard about that?" Harry asked.  
"Yes," Wesley said, and Harry could tell that he was withholding information again.  
"Look, Molly, it is imperative, now more than ever, that I get in touch with Dumbledore," Wesley said.  
"An owl would be the safest bet, Wesley," Mrs. Weasley told him. "Everything has been upset by these occurrences. Its almost as though the very essence of magic has been shifted,"  
"It has," he said.  
"What?" Mrs. Weasley asked, startled.  
Harry leaned in closely to hear. Wesley knew something about the Hellmouth. Harry was sure, and he wanted to know more about what he'd been dreaming about.  
"It would be far too complicated to explain here. I'll be in touch, Molly. I might even see you soon," he said, with the first and only trace of a weak smile.  
"Bye," Mrs. Weasley said, still not quite recovered from his statement.  
As soon as Wesley's head had withdrawn from the fire, Harry and Ginny, almost in unison, asked, "Who was that?"  
"Wesley Windham-Pryce," Mrs. Weasley replied. "He graduated from Hogwarts three or four years before You-Know-Who fell. He joined the Order right after that. The original Order," she amended. "He wasn't particularly gifted magically, and he definitely had some maturity issues, but his heart was in the right place. He disappeared after You-Know-Who fell. I never expected to see him again."  
"Why?" Ginny asked.  
"Wesley was a forgettable kind of person. Or at least," she grinned. "a person one would like to forget. He hated the Dark Arts, all right, but he was so snobbish that there were very few people who wanted to work with him. Mind you, he was a smart boy - he just didn't know how to translate that into practical usage of magic."  
"What do you think he wants with Dumbledore, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked.  
"Oh - who knows? It must be important, though. I don't ever remember seeing him look that desperate about anything," Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Oh, well - nothing we can do about that, is there? Why don't you two go out and join Ron and Hermione? They're down in the field playing Quidditch."  
As Mrs. Weasley left the room in the direction of Errol's perch, Harry's mind shifted away from Wesley Windham-Pryce and onto more teenage matters.  
"Hermione?" he asked Ginny, questioningly.  
"She arrived this morning," Ginny replied evenly. "You've slept until one in the afternoon."  
"I have?" Harry asked, surprised.  
"Yes," she said.  
Something occurred to Harry. "Why aren't you out with them? You need to do some training if you want to make Chaser."  
"Well - I was waiting for you, wasn't I?" she asked, and blushed slightly.  
"Oh - thanks," Harry said.  
"Do you always sleep like that?" Ginny asked as she and Harry walked upstairs to get their brooms.  
"Hmm? Oh, no. I guess I was too distracted to get changed last night," Harry replied, as he looked down at his jeans and sweater.  
"Distracted by what?" she asked. Harry kicked himself mentally.  
"Oh, nothing in particular. Just he whole thing with the Hellmouth, and the AWA," he lied, so unconvincingly that Ginny halted on the stairs.  
"Harry, you were fine last night until Dumbledore took you outside. Then, you were like a walking zombie. You didn't even eat dinner," she said.  
Harry's mental kicking increased. "I...well...its personal," he concluded weakly.  
"Harry, you don't have to lie to me," Ginny said, and her sincerity moved Harry ever so slightly.  
I can't tell Ron about the prophesy - he'd have a cow. I can't tell Hermione, because she'd research me to death, and then she'd worry, too. Ginny - oh, what the hell. Its not like we have nothing in common.  
"Ginny - what I'm going to tell you is very serious," Harry said, and so help him, she giggled.  
"What?" he asked, slightly angry now.  
"Its just that you sounded so much like Dumbledore just then," she replied, and her face straightened. Harry didn't know whether to feel complemented or not.  
"Right. Anyway, Ginny, what's been going on, its - well - er...well, there's a prophesy, there's an equilibrium, and..." he trailed off. Ginny already looked lost.  
"Why don't we talk somewhere with a bit more privacy?" Ginny suggested. Harry looked around. They were halfway between landings on the staircase.  
"Er...good idea," he said.  
"Here - my room is right here," Ginny said, motioning up the stairs to the next landing.  
"Er...okay..." Ginny pushed open the door, and Harry entered behind her.  
Harry had never been in Ginny's room before. Indeed, he'd never assumed that he ever would be in Ginny's room. He just never thought that he would have any business there.  
"Why don't you start from the beginning," Ginny said, sitting down on the bed and motioning for Harry to sit down.  
"Okay," Harry said. He was a little nervous - he'd never told anyone about the prophesy, after all.  
So Harry told her. He started with the prophesy from last term - the one Trelawney had made before his birth. He explained how it could have been him or Neville. Then he explained the new prophesy, and how the war couldn't progress until he and Voldemort were through with their own conflict. Maybe it was Ginny's sympathetic expression, or maybe it was the emotion released when he retold the events of the past few weeks, but Harry broke down. He told Ginny everything - how he missed Sirius, how he'd been possessed by Voldemort, and how Dumbledore had told Harry of his great mistake.  
Four hours later, Harry and Ginny were still talking. Once the dam had broken open, Harry simply couldn't close it. He couldn't stop himself; he needed to get so much off his shoulders. And Ginny was so understanding! They reminisced at length on possession and even talked about the incident with the Chamber from Ginny's first year.  
Ginny admitted to having nightmares about it on a fairly regular schedule. Harry, whose nightmares seemed to include more horrors every day, could definitely sympathize with her on that. She talked about how close she had been with Tom Riddle's memory, and much she simply hadn't known him. Discovering that he was evil had hurt her more than the damn snake had.  
By the time Ron and Hermione got back from Quidditch at ten o'clock, both Harry and Ginny were asleep on her bed, tear streaks evident, but already beginning to fade.  
  
There's number four! Say "Bunker shorts" if you like H/G. I'm a fan of that pairing, but if you want to see something else, then I'd be more than willing. I know that this fic seems to be going nowhere fast, but that's because I've got it planned out to be enormous. If I can keep myself interested, it should be the biggest piece of writing I've ever done. Speaking of big, this blurb is getting too long. Better cut it off. Station! 


	5. The Fifth Chapter

To all of you who said "bunker shorts"...thank you! I didn't really want to change the H/G pairing, but as always, I reflect what the people want to see more of. Or less of. Yeah. Umm...story. Right. I'm getting to it, already!  
  
Wesley withdrew from the fire. Actually, he fell backwards an landed on his back, scattering those Slayers who had been standing immediately behind him.  
"Well?" Buffy asked, for she and the others hadn't been able to hear the conversation. "Will he help us?"  
Wesley didn't answer. He looked slightly dumfounded.  
"Hello? Earth to Wesley!" Faith said.  
"Oh, yes...right, of course. Err..." he seemed lost for words. "He wasn't there."  
"So...does he have a home number, too?" Buffy asked, attempting some light humor. If Wesley even recognized the concept of humor, he hid the recognition well.  
"No, you misunderstand," he said. "That was the wrong fireplace."  
Despite regaining his ability to speak in coherent sentences, Wesley still seemed lost.  
"Wesley - are you all right?" Willow asked, with some concern.  
"No. I am most definitely not 'all right'," he said, and Buffy felt a slight tingle of...was that fear? Wesley had never seemed so out of it before.  
"What's wrong?" Buffy asked, slowly.  
"He's - back," Wesley said.  
"Who? This Dumbledore guy?" asked Xander, the confusion in his voice speaking for the whole crowd.  
"No. Oh, this is terrible. I...oh, no," Wesley said, and Buffy's sense of alarm grew. As she looked around, she noticed the growing looks of concern on all assembled.  
"Wesley, what is the matter?" She asked, with enough conviction to pull Wesley out of his haze.  
"This is going to take a while to explain," he said, glancing at the group.  
"We seem to have a while," Buffy said.  
"Yes. Yes, all right. I'll tell you. I need not warn you that this is not for the faint hearted, because I doubt that any of you are faint hearted.  
"Nearly twenty-seven years ago, a wizard named Voldemort came into the public light. He was a fanatic, preaching hatred of non magic folk, or muggles, and muggle-born wizards. He also preached disdain for those wizards who married muggles, as well.  
"Voldemort gained power at an alarming rate. The Ministry, of course, could do nothing to stop him - he was well within his rights to say whatever he pleased about muggles and muggle-borns and whatnot. Freedom of speech, you know.  
"Anyway, Voldemort began recruiting. No one was entirely sure, at the time, what he was recruiting for. I suppose that everyone was just too na•ve to see what he was planning. Just months after stepping into the spotlight, Voldemort gained a large following of pure-blood wizards. That is, wizards whose family's are all magic. Many of them believed that Voldemort's bigoted approach to government and idealism was very correct.  
"But Voldemort didn't stop there. With a small army of wizards, Voldemort set out to ally himself with the giants. The giants, though many still lived in England, were dying off by that time. And anyway, they were scorned by most wizards. You have to understand this - the greater majority of the wizarding community in those days was very, very bigoted, only they never admitted it. The giants, though often warlike, were sentient beings, capable of love, hate, and compassion, just like wizards...and the wizards were content to sit back and watch them die.  
"Voldemort offered them life. He offered them equality. He made them believe that he was the only wizard in the world who would ever allow them to live, unrestricted. And maybe he was that, if nothing else good.  
"With his army of wizards and giants, Voldemort had gained an incredible amount of power in just under a year.  
"That's when the attack came.  
"The Ministry of Magic was wholly unprepared for it. Despite knowing how much of a punch Voldemort could hit them with if he tried, the Ministry was just too na•ve to believe that he would ever do something that would destabilize the magical world like that.  
:Voldemort's forces overran the wizarding prison, Azkaban, freeing several hundred highly dangerous convicts. What was worse, though, was that the prison guards, creatures called Dementors, decided to join him. Dementors feed on emotion, you see; they drain you of every happy thought you have, leaving you in despair. They realized that with Voldemort, they would get many more chances to satisfy their hunger than with the Ministry.  
"And so, the war began."  
"War? There was a war going on...and no one noticed it?" Willow asked.  
"They noticed it," Wesley said, and it was obvious he was reliving something highly painful. "Voldemort's followers, who were later known as Death Eaters, killed muggles for fun. Yes, fun," he said, seeing the appalled looks about him.  
"How come we never heard about all of it, then?" Xander asked.  
"Memory charms," Wesley explained. "A type of magic that removes or modifies a person's memories of a particular time or event. I can't begin to tell you how many times the Ministry had to alter the memories of muggles, making them believe that they had seen their loved ones die in car accidents rather than murder..." he trailed off, and for a second, he seemed lost again. He snapped out of it quickly, though.  
"Anyway, the war raged on...and on...for eleven years. Eleven years, as Auror's working for our side attempted to hunt down Voldemort and his supporters and capture them. Eleven years of sudden, gruesome deaths. Eleven years of losing friends and family," and now Wesley's voice was shaking. "It was unimaginable for those of you who haven't experienced it. Every day, we received word of someone else who died. Every day, it seemed I lost a friend.  
"Then, all of a sudden, eleven years ago, Voldemort hit a large snag and fell from power."  
"What happened?" Angel asked, speaking up for the first time.  
"No one is quite sure. By that time, Voldemort, himself, controlled an almost limitless amount of Dark magic. To this day, we're not sure how strong he really was.  
"It happened so suddenly that, at first, no one believed what they were hearing. Voldemort had gone to kill Lily and James Potter - a married couple who worked against Voldemort in an organization called the Order of the Phoenix. I, myself, was a part of the Order.  
"Exactly what happened at the Potter's house, no one is quite sure. We do know that Voldemort killed Lily and James. Then, apparently, he turned on the Potter's infant son, Harry."  
Willow sucked in a long, deep breath, as though she was going to be sick.  
"Voldemort attempted to kill the child. But he could not. For some reason, Voldemort, arguably the strongest Dark wizard ever, could not kill a little boy. And because of whatever transpired there that night, Voldemort's power was broken. We thought he was dead.  
"But now he's back."  
Wesley finished his story and heaved an enormous sigh. For a second, no one even moved. It was really too much to take in at one time. Buffy found herself with at least twenty questions she wanted to ask, but she had no idea where to start.  
Faith beat her to it. "What are they doing to fight this guy, Wes?" she asked, her face taking on the mask it wore whenever she was deeply concerned about something.  
"I don't know. I was too dumbstruck to ask," he said, and kicked himself slightly.  
"Think they could use some good old Slayer muscle?" Faith asked, getting up and looking intently at Wesley.  
"Well...I don't know. This would be a much different fight then you're used to. Wizards don't fight hand to hand, you see. They duel, using their wands."  
"All the better - if they don't expect it, then maybe they won't be able to defend against it," Faith said.  
Faith turned to the group. Making sure that she stood beside Buffy, rather than in front of her, Faith addressed the group as a whole. "What do you think, everyone? There's a fight out there that needs fighting. This Voldemort guy is going to kill lots of people if someone doesn't stop him. The question you have to ask is, "do I want to stop him?"  
She looked around expectantly. After a brief, awkward pause, Kennedy stepped forward. "I do," she said.  
"Me too," Willow said, also stepping forward to stand beside Kennedy. Their hands interlocked briefly, so that only Faith, who'd been watching them gratefully, noticed.  
Soon, the choruses of 'yes' and 'I will' become so numerous that the voices saying them became so indistinct that it sounded as though one entity was repeating, over and over.  
"I do!"  
  
Harry awoke the next morning, and immediately wondered where he was. Harry wasn't used to waking up in strange places - his cupboard, his room, his dorm at Hogwarts, and Ron's room were the only places he was used to awakening.  
He was also unused to awaking with someone else sleeping beside him.  
Slowly, the events of the night before came back to him, and Harry smiled. He settled back down slightly, and looked at Ginny, who was still asleep.  
My, he thought to himself, as he watched her peaceful face. She has grown to be very beautiful. I wonder when that happened?  
As he was thinking this, a strand of hair fell across her face. Harry brushed it back, and in doing so, woke Ginny up.  
She, too, was a bit lost for a moment, but then she smiled and looked up at Harry. "Good morning," she said.  
"Morning," he replied.  
They both sat, looking at each other for a moment.  
Growing uncomfortable with the silence, Harry asked, "Err...what do we do now?"  
Ginny laughed. Soon, Harry joined in as well.  
"Oh, this is ridiculous," Ginny said.  
"Very," Harry agreed, through his laughter.  
"We just slept together...I just slept with Harry Potter...and now he wants me to tell him what's next?" She just kept on laughing. Tears of mirth began to form.  
"Oh, this isn't going to get us anywhere," Harry said. "I think I'll head up to Ron's room, and...take a shower...oh, no..." He trailed off.  
"What?" Ginny asked.  
"What am I going to tell your brother?" Harry asked.  
"That you slept with is baby sister?" Ginny suggested.  
"Yeah, right. You'll be cleaning up what's left of me with a toothbrush," Harry said, and Ginny smiled.  
"I'm serious, Harry. You can tell him the truth," Ginny said, earnestly.  
"Right," Harry said, looking at her sideways.  
"Seriously!" she said. "Nothing happened, right? We slept together - big deal! It wasn't anything...well...you know..." she blushed, and Harry understood. He blushed too.  
"I suppose you're right," he admitted. "But still, how do I explain...us?" he asked her.  
"Us?" she asked him.  
"Yes...you and me...whatever it is between us, now," Harry said.  
"I don't know," she said. Then she grinned. "Think of something original."  
"Yeah, right," Harry said. "I'll see you later, assuming that Ron doesn't murder me first."  
"Right," she said as Harry exited the room and headed upstairs.  
Something original, he thought. Give me a break.  
When Harry reached Ron's door, he stopped. He reached for the knob, but then withdrew his hand. I can't go in there not knowing what to say, he thought to himself.  
After pondering this at length, Harry reached once more for the knob. He stopped again.  
"Having trouble with the door, Harry?" asked a voice from behind him. Harry turned around.  
"Hermione!" he said. "It's so good to see you."  
"You as well," she said. She smiled. "So...you and Ginny, huh?"  
"What...?" he asked, dumbstruck. "How do you know about that?"  
"I'd rather not say," Hermione said, in a haughty manner that didn't fool Harry for a second.  
"Spill it," he said simply.  
"Oh, all right," she said. "Fred and George's latest product - Extendable Eye's. You know, to go with the Extendable Ear's. We looked all over for you, and by then the only place we hadn't looked was Ginny's room, and so we did, and we saw you two...well..." she trailed off.  
"Sleeping together?" he supplied.  
"Yes," she said, and seemed slightly embarrassed by it.  
"Hermione - nothing happened," Harry said.  
"Oh, we know!" she exclaimed. "Gosh, Harry, I wasn't implying anything like that. Its just...well...you know how Ron can be. Even if you weren't...umm...getting too personal...you did seem very close. Ron was a bit...surprised," she said, choosing the final word with more caution then Harry liked.  
"Surprised as in...he wants my head," Harry revised.  
"I don't think so," Hermione said. "Harry...Ron has had a hard time thinking of his sister dating. And in the end, I suppose that he really wanted you two to get together. Now wait," she said, before he could interrupt. "Ron knows you, Harry. He trusts you. Even with his baby sister. Or at least, he figures that you're better than, say, Michael Corner."  
"Yeah...I suppose," Harry said. "Still...what am I possibly going to say to him?"  
"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "This the first time I've ever dealt with a situation like this."  
"You've dealt -"  
"Helped with," she amended quickly. "Really, Harry, I think you just act natural."  
"Natural? Oh, right. 'Hey, Ron, how are things? Quidditch good last night? Sorry I couldn't make it - I was too busy sleeping with your baby sister. Catch you next time, though?'" Harry said, his tone of sarcasm as thick as a watermelon.  
Hermione looked suddenly alarmed, so Harry asked, "What is it, Hermione?"  
She pointed. 'It' was Ron, who had opened his bed room door about halfway through Harry's sarcastic speech. Harry's face went red, and then drained of all its color at a rather shocking velocity.  
"Er...hi, Ron....sleep well?" Harry asked, his voice high pitched.  
Ron didn't say anything.  
Hermione tried to break the tension. "Uhh...nice weather, we're having, eh, Ron?" she asked.  
Ron looked up at her, then back at Harry. He slowly opened his mouth. "I'm okay. Really. I just have one request to make of you about this whole relationship."  
Harry became instantly nervous. What would Ron ask for?  
"My request is this," Ron said, pointedly. "You guys never, under any circumstances, no matter what...you never kiss in front of me," he finished.  
Harry grinned by way of response.  
"I don't think you know just how incredibly strange my position is," Ron said, eyeing Harry's grin with the beginnings of amusement. "As your best friend, I'm inclined to be excited for you and congratulate you and ask how it went. After all, you slept with a girl," he stated. Somehow, he kept his face entirely straight. "As Ginny's older brother, I'm inclined to punch you in the nose."  
"Which one will it be, then?" Harry asked.  
"Neither," Ron said. "I told you, I'm okay with it. Just - no kissing. Not in front of me, anyway."  
"Right," Harry said, his grin returning.  
"Right," Ron said, and he grinned.  
Damn, he thought. I wasn't going to do that!  
"Breakfast?" Hermione asked, moving down the stairs.  
"Yes, definitely," Harry said, and Ron nodded.  
  
When the three of them arrived downstairs, Mrs. Weasley had already begun cooking. She seemed slightly better than she had the day before. She'd gotten over it enough to put on a smile when Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered, anyway.  
"Good morning, dears," she said, and though her smile seemed a bit weak and forced, it was still there. "Sleep well?"  
Both Hermione and Ron shot Harry furtive looks. "Yes, Mrs. Weasley," he replied. "Like a stone."  
Hermione turned her laugh into a cough at the last second.  
"Well, that's good," Mrs. Weasley said. "What would you like for breakfast? Some eggs? Toast? A bagel, perhaps?"  
"Eggs," Ron replied, and both Hermione and Harry voiced their consent to eggs, as well.  
Mr. Weasley was sleeping in, Mrs. Weasley explained. He'd gotten work off for a few days, to recover. She left shortly after this explanation to bring him some breakfast.  
Shortly thereafter, Ginny came quietly down the stairs, and, with a small, soft greeting to Ron and Hermione, sat down next to Harry. Mrs. Weasley arrived back a few minutes later, and though she noticed Harry and Ginny's rather close proximity, she didn't mention anything.  
The house had never seemed quite so empty. With Fred and George living at their new premises, and Bill, Charlie, and Percy each with homes in various parts of the world, the Burrow was now inhabited by Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. The most unpleasant consequence of this was the increase in chores and other menial workloads. Harry had never realized how quickly gnomes managed to get back into the Weasley's garden.  
Even thus, Harry found that the next week went by in a blur. It was a week later that it happened.  
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had gone out to play Quidditch, not only for fun, but also so that Ginny could get some practice in before tryouts. Things were going exceptionally well, at first. Ginny, who had always shown a great proficiency at flying anyway, was improving with an almost alarming speed. As she and Hermione zoomed around, passing and shooting on Ron, Harry was hovering a good distance away, shouting instructions and critiques to Ginny.  
"Good, good!...Now keep your balance...don't lean to one side too much, Ginny...keep the Quaffle tucked under your arm, now...okay...put your whole body into the shot...don't forget to lead the person you're passing to...come on, Ginny, you can throw harder than that..."  
So she did. She threw the Quaffle with such velocity, in fact, that Ron was nearly knocked off his broom by the wake of the thing. It hit a tree and snapped a branch off.  
"Wow, Ginny - that was some shot," Harry said, coming up besides her.  
Ron turned back towards them. He was red faced and panting. "Could we call it an afternoon? I'm beat. Maybe you have a limitless store of energy, Ginny, but I guess I'm just a lowly human."  
When Ginny, smiling, nodded, Ron quickly descended and rolled off his broom. Hermione, who had landed as well, went over to help him up.  
Hermione looked up and grinned, widely. "I think I'll bring Ron up to the house - why don't you two continue the practice without us?"  
Without waiting for an answer, Hermione led Ron away. They quickly crested the hill and were out of sight.  
Ginny sidled up beside Harry. "What do you think of those two?"  
"What about them?" Harry replied, slightly puzzled.  
"Well, I can't decide if Hermione wanted to get us alone," Ginny said, with a slight blush. "or if she wanted to be alone with my brother."  
"What?" Harry asked, now perplexed but more than a little curious.  
Instead of answering she dove for the ground and hopped off her broom, eventually coming to rest laying on the ground. Harry joined her.  
"Don't be silly, Harry," she said. "You must have noticed it by now."  
"Noticed what?" Harry said, feeling a slight anger that disappeared immediately. She was enjoying keeping information from him.  
"That Hermione," Ginny said, importantly. "Fancies my brother."  
Harry was stricken.  
"You're kidding, right?" he asked.  
"No, of course I'm not," Ginny said, and now she was serious. "I wouldn't joke about something that would hurt their feelings like that."  
"Of course," Harry said, as though Ginny's thoughtfulness was something so expected that he could afford to take it for granted. "But that doesn't mean I'm any less shocked."  
Ginny's grin reappeared. "You just have to know what signs to look for in a girl, Harry," she said. He drew his arm around Ginny's shoulders, and her grin widened.  
"Oh, really? What signs?" Harry asked. He was getting more and more used to the idea that Ginny was now his girlfriend.  
Ginny laid her head back against his shoulder. "Oh, you wouldn't understand. You're too much of a boy," she said.  
"Yeah," Harry replied, and decided to attempt a joke. "I thought you liked me that way."  
Ginny's laughter was sudden and loud.  
"Lets see," Harry said, mocking thoughtfulness. "Could one of the signs possibly be...ticklishness?"  
It stands to reason that this was followed by tickling. Later, Harry would reflect on how comfortable he'd grown with Ginny in order to touch her like that.  
"Oh, Harry, stop!" she yelled, through laughter that was half tickling-induced, half not.  
"Or...what?" Harry said, and stepped up the attack.  
"Oh...oh, no..." Ginny was in convulsions now.  
Suddenly, Harry stopped and withdrew his hands. "Sorry," he said, grinning. "Couldn't help myself." Wiping away tears of mirth, Ginny punched his shoulder playfully.  
Ginny would recall, later that day, that she heard a distinct cracking noise; Harry had no such memory, but that was hardly surprising. Ginny's playful punch, something that would have hardly been enough to knock over a cup from her perspective, and popped Harry's shoulder out of its joint.  
Looking down at his newly disjointed arm, Harry barely had time to say, "Oh, damn..." before the pain started.  
Harry had experienced sudden, unexpected physical pain before. That, in no way, meant that this hurt any less.  
"Oh, Harry!" Ginny exclaimed sharply, her grin gone without a trace, as Harry cried out in pain. "I...I didn't mean...I mean, I didn't...oh, dear...oh, dear...I really didn't, I swear...oh, this is dreadful..."  
"Ginny!" Harry said, forcefully, through his gritted teeth. "Get a grip on yourself! Your mom can probably fix this in a second."  
Ginny took a shuddering, deep breath, and then exhaled, slowly. "Right," she said. "Lets get you up to the house."  
Together, nursing his oddly protruding arm, Harry made his way up to the Burrow, with Ginny next to him, casting worried looks at him. 


	6. The Sixth Chapter

For those of you who wanted a new chapter so soon, I hope that this is soon enough. I go on 'writing binges'; most of the chapters are written in rapid two hour writing sessions. They're also not proofread; so if I misspell anything, let me know and I probably won't correct it. Plot notes: I have no plot notes! This story is writing itself, mostly. I have a few ideas for the future, but using them might be tough. On with the story.  
  
Buffy quickly discovered that finding seats for thirty on a commercial airliner could be a pain in the proverbial ass. The realistic ass, too, since she had to sit waiting for the ticket master to check for available flights to England.  
As she waited, Buffy reminisced about what had happened after Faith's rallying speech.  
While Buffy and the others were on the way to Britain, Wesley was going to attempt again to reach Dumbledore. In the mean time, Buffy and the others were going to a place called Diagon Alley for a place to stay.  
This is stupid, Buffy thought for the umpteenth million time. We're running off to England, not knowing where we're gonna end up or what we're gonna find. This is suicidal! I'm not suicidal! I am NOT suicidal Buffy! Do I look like suicidal Buffy? No...not at all...  
And so on.  
While Buffy waited on tickets, Willow and Kennedy stood gazing out at the night sky as a plane took off.  
"I've never been on a plane," Willow announced, breaking the silence between them.  
"Really?" Kennedy asked, gripping Willow's arm near the elbow and resting her head on Willow's shoulder.  
"No," Willow reiterated. "I almost did once, when I was two, but I got so sick that I had to get off the plane. My mom was really mad...once she realized what was going on, of course," Willow added, with a touch of bitter humor.  
Kennedy kissed Willow's shoulder, a small but sweet gesture, and Willow smiled. "You've never really told me much about your family, you know," she said. "I've told you all about the time my mom tried to burn me at the stake and everything, and you've never said a word..."  
Kennedy released Willow's arm. "Not much to tell, really," she said, in an almost toneless voice that scared Willow. "My mom was okay...my dad was a lunatic...they split, and I got tossed back and forth until the state told dad that he was too loony to raise a kid," she said, in a dull, flat monotone. "I lived with mom after that. Then my Watcher showed up, when I was twelve. That was almost seven years ago. I lived with him afterwards, training." When she was done, Kennedy just gazed away, distracted.  
"That doesn't sound that bad," Willow said. "At least your parents didn't try to kill you," she added, making an attempt at a joke.  
Kennedy looked back at Willow and didn't say anything. After an awkward second of this, Willow put her arms around Kennedy and hugged her.  
As Kennedy and Willow were having their discussion, Faith and Wood were off with several of the new Slayers, getting food.  
"I'm telling you," Wood was saying. "Street hockey is the only sport worth playing."  
"No way, Jeeves," Faith responded, looking at the menu and not Wood. "Baseball kicks street hockey's whiny little ass."  
"You're insane," Wood shot back.  
"I get that a lot," Faith said, truthfully. "Though not quite so much, anymore."  
"You were never insane, Faith," Wood said, suddenly serious. "Just...misguided."  
Faith laughed. "Yeah, and a little sick."  
Wood, in turn, grimaced. Why can't I make her laugh when I'm actually being funny? "Maybe a little."  
Faith shook her head. She wasn't going to let Wood know just how much those words actually meant to her. She wasn't. She wasn't...oh, damn.  
"Thanks," she said.  
"Thanks for what?" Wood asked, now confused.  
"Thanks for saying that," Faith said, and she turned to Wood. He'd begun a humorous comment, but when he saw tears in Faith's eyes, he stopped dead.  
"Hey, don't cry," he said, instinctively hugging her. "I didn't mean to make you cry!"  
"I'm sorry," Faith said. "I'm just so...confused about things. I...I just don't know who I am...what I am...anymore. Everything used to be so clear, back when I was Miss Psycho Bitch of the Year. Am I being a bad person to want that clarity back?" she asked. Wood realized quickly that this was the question that had been bugging Faith since her escape from jail.  
"Well...no," Wood said, after a second of careful consideration. "Faith, we all have those impulses. You know, that life would be easier if we just sacrificed our morals and gave up. I have them. Its what we do, not what we think, that counts. You're fighting for good...that makes you a good person," he finished. He looked down at her expectantly.  
She sniffled softly. "Thanks," she said, and buried her head in his chest.  
For a second, they just stood there, staying in the moment, and completely forgetting where they were. The romance was brought to an abrupt end when the boy at the register asked, loudly, "Can I please help you, sir?"  
Wood and Faith broke apart quickly. Brushing her eyes and looking around, embarrassingly, to find that the Slayers had been watching the whole exchange, she said, slightly louder than was necessary, "A burger. To go. Fast. Please."  
Andrew sat alone. He'd spent a lot of time alone, since the battle with the First. Somehow, seeing Anya die had changed him. And, for the life of him, Andrew couldn't figure out why.  
He'd seen people die before; hell, he'd killed people before. Why was this so different? The question seemed to go around and around in his head. Why?  
Andrew was completely unaware of Dawn's approach. He was also unaware that he'd asked the question aloud.  
"Why, what?" Dawn asked.  
"Hmmm....? Oh, sorry," Andrew replied, coming out of his deep thoughts. "Just thinking out loud."  
"Do you want to talk about it?" Dawn asked.  
"No...not really," Andrew replied shortly.  
"Its about what happened back in Sunnydale, isn't it?" she asked.  
"Yeah," Andrew said, still not offering any information.  
Dawn looked closely at him, wondering why in the world she wanted to help him. Andrew was their enemy; nevertheless, he had helped them in the end.  
"Come on, Andrew, it helps to talk -" she began, but Andrew cut her off.  
"No! I don't want to talk about it! Go away!" he yelled.  
Dawn looked slightly hurt, but Andrew had already faded back into his inner circle.  
Buffy looked up. The guy at the ticket counter was finally done. About damn time, she thought.  
"Here you go, miss," the lady said, disinterested. "Thirty coach tickets to London, England. Enjoy your flight."  
Sure, she thought. Might as well round up the others.  
It took a little while to find everyone, since Andrew was still brooding by himself and the rest of the Slayers were spread out all over the place, eating and browsing.  
Twenty minutes later, they were boarding the plane.  
It was strange. As Buffy looked on, she saw the various, and slightly subtle, actions of her friends. Willow and Kennedy were walking close to each other, but not touching, which was unusual. Faith and Wood, on the other hand, were holding each other's hands. Andrew and Dawn were the last aboard, and they immediately went to separate ends of the compartment.  
Shaking her head, Buffy settled down next to Xander and sat back. It was going to be a long flight.  
  
"Mum!" Ginny yelled as they entered the house. "Mum, come quick!"  
Mrs. Weasley rushed into the room, flinging aside the pan she'd been washing as she went. "What's the matter, dear...oh, my!" she exclaimed, as she saw Harry's arm. This exclamation, plus Ginny's, eventually brought the rest of the house down on them.  
As Mrs. Weasley sat Harry down, Ron and Hermione, looking somewhat more healthy than they had upon leaving the field.  
"What's the matter...crikes! What did you do to your arm?" Ron asked.  
Harry gritted his teeth. The damn thing hurt like hell. "Accident..." he said vaguely.  
"Well, it'll take a moment for this spell to work, but then you should be fine," Mrs. Weasley said, kindly. Then she turned stern. "You really should be more careful when you're doing something dangerous."  
Harry shot a look at Ginny, who was biting her lower lip. Dangerous? Ginny? He'd never really thought of her that way...and he never would again, Harry realized. Despite the fact that his arm felt like a rusty torch of pain, Harry found that he had no hard feelings towards Ginny for doing this. He thought it was...cute?  
Am I falling in love?  
As those words went through his brain, Mrs. Weasley's spell took effect in a violent, painful way. He yelled.  
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Ginny wailed.  
Ron shot her a sideways glance that she didn't even notice.  
The pain was lessening, and Harry found that he had regain use of his arm. Grimacing slightly, he looked up. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."  
"You're welcome, dear," she replied. "Just remember: caution! I daresay you have more to be cautious about then the average boy, so you shouldn't be adding stunts like this to your troubles..."  
Mrs. Weasley shook her head and left for the kitchen, Summoning her discarded pan as she went.  
Harry tried to rise. Unfortunately, his arm was still sore, and when he put weight on it, he cried out again.  
"Harry! Oh, Harry, don't move, it'll just make it worse," Ginny said. She sat down beside him. "I am so sorry, Harry."  
Ron couldn't help himself. "Sorry for what?" he asked.  
"Uhh..." Harry said. He wasn't sure if Ginny wanted her brother to know what had occurred after he'd left. He'd be worried. More to the point, Harry wasn't sure if he wanted Ron to know what had happened. Ginny was a formidable girl, but she was still a girl...  
"Accident," Ginny said. "I knocked him off his broom."  
"Ah," Ron said. Hermione didn't look convinced, but she kept quiet. "Well...feel up to a game of chess, Harry?"  
"Yeah...yeah, I would," Harry said.  
They passed the rest of the day with chess and a bit of degnoming. Though both Harry and Ginny enjoyed the day, they spent it with lingering doubts in the back of their heads.  
  
Angel was sitting in the lobby, drinking from a tinted cup. He was alone.  
For the first time in awhile, Angel felt...content. That was what it was. Maybe even comfortable.  
Since Buffy's arrival, and subsequent departure, he and the rest of the group had something to work on. And even though Wesley seemed on edge, the rest of the gang were doing a lot better. They seemed to finally be relaxing into their new lives and leaving Jasmine behind.  
Angel nodded. Things were definitely looking up. He turned to return to his room and do some reading, and he ran right into a little, poorly dressed man.  
"'Lo, Angel," said the Whistler.  
  
Yay for chapter six! Short, I know...but I promise that the next one will be another biggie. If not in word count, then just in subject matter. Btw...if anyone knows if the little, poorly dressed man is called "the Whistler" or just "Whistler", please let me know. Thanks....Station! 


	7. The Seventh Chapter

So...blurb time. Anyone seen any good movies lately? Right, story...  
  
Angel stood, dumbfounded. He hadn't seen Whistler in...sweet Jesus, eight years...  
"Whistler...!" Angel said.  
"You know, I come half way across the world to see you," the Whistler admonished. "and you don't even say 'hello' to me? I thought I taught you manners."  
"Hello," Angel said, and reasserted his composure. "What are you doing here?"  
"Cleaning up your mess," the Whistler said.  
"My...what?" Angel asked, composure leaving and confusion making a comeback.  
"You screwed things up big, buddy," the Whistler said. "Screwed 'em up in ways that you can't comprehend."  
"I don't understand," Angel said.  
The Whistler looked up as he replied, as though speaking to some unseen deity. "They never understand! Four thousand years in this freakin' dimension, and not one of 'em has ever understood! Why not give me a smart one next time?"  
Angel stood mute. Should I fell insulted...?  
"Well, I suppose that you're even more confused now, huh?" the Whistler said, now addressing Angel again.  
Angel nodded.  
"Phew...where do I begin? Oh, fine, lets get the basics in place, huh?  
"Seven years ago, you met that new Slayer, Buffy. You went to Sunnydale for the specific purpose of helping her.  
"What you didn't know was that she was marked for death. She was supposed to die in that church, after the Master bit her. You were supposed to be there, too. But she wasn't supposed to live. Or live again. Or however you're supposed to say that.  
"When she came back, things got kinda screwy. Still, things could have still gone the way they should have, but then you two made with the smoochies, and that, you dolt, is why everything is all messy now.  
"You see, you were supposed to seal Acathla. Stop Spike and Drusilla. But even that wasn't the great purpose. You stop them. Spike runs back home."  
"Home?" Angel asked.  
"London," the Whistler replied. "You were supposed to chase him. And kill him. And then...then, near the end of that summer, you were going to meet a boy...a very special boy. You two were marked from the beginning. You were gonna be best pals. You were gonna fight evil together.  
"And now, you don't even know who Harry Potter is."  
  
Buffy had long since concluded that flying was not her favorite method of travel. If it had been possible, she would have taken a bus to England.  
It wasn't airsickness...that was Giles' bit. It wasn't the in flight movie...that was Dawn's bit. It wasn't the...  
Her thoughts trailed off. Something about planes. She just couldn't stand them. They were too - mechanical.  
Woe, she thought. Too mechanical? What is that all about?  
As these thoughts passed through her brain, the pilot's voice came on the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be landing shortly. Please make sure that all tray's are locked in the upright position. Please make sure that all safety harnesses are firmly in place. We hope you'll choose TWA again soon," and the voice clicked off.  
Hopefully not, Buffy thought.  
As soon as the plane landed the Slayers piled off. Buffy was surprised to notice just how eager her fellow Slayers were to disembark. She was more surprised to find that she, too, wanted off the plane.  
She explained the feeling to Giles as they entered the terminal. "Any thoughts?" she asked, hopefully. What she didn't need was some unexplainable disease or something.  
Giles grimaced, not quite over his airsickness. "Slayer instincts, Buffy," he explained. "The primitive is getting to you again."  
Buffy was alarmed. "As in literally?" she asked.  
Giles smiled horribly. "No," he explained. "Just her thoughts and feelings passed down through the generations. I expect that spending so much time with these other Slayers has...awoken...some of that in you."  
"Oh, great," Buffy said. "I was so looking forward to never having to deal with the primitive again."  
"Oh, I don't think it will be a problem," Giles said. "No...problem..." and he bolted for the bathroom, looking sick again.  
"What's his deal?" Faith asked. "He seemed a bit green around the gills."  
"Airsickness," Buffy replied. "He's always been like that. We'd better wait for him."  
"Yeah, sure thing, B," Faith replied. "Hey, everyone! Everyone! We're gonna wait here for a while. Go get some food or something. If you're not back in ten minutes, I'll kick your ass."  
The group broke up slowly, mixing as people went in various directions. Buffy looked sideways at Faith. "Really getting into the whole leadership thing, aren't you?" she asked.  
"Yeah," Faith replied. "Better than sitting on my ass, right? If I'm gonna skip jail, I might as well do everything I can, right?"  
Buffy smiled. "Yeah."  
Ten minutes later, the group had reformed and everyone, including Giles, had excited the airport in search of the magical Diagon Alley.  
As they walked up the busy, dark streets of London, Faith ran to catch up with Buffy. "Hey, B! Mind if I had a word?" she asked.  
"If you're really nice, I'll give you two," Buffy replied. Faith didn't get it. "I guess humor was never big in prison, huh?"  
"Or in hell," Faith agreed. "I just wanted to know...what are we lookin' for, here?"  
Buffy pulled a little piece of paper out of her pocket. "The place is called 'the Leaky Cauldron'," she answered. "We go through there, and then do some stuff with bricks, and there it is. But we can room at the Leaky Cauldron, 'if we so choose'."   
Faith gave Buffy an odd look. "It's Wesley's writing," Buffy said, defensively. "He hasn't lost that British touch."  
Faith laughed. Then she stopped. "The Leaky Cauldron, right?" she asked.  
"Yeah," Buffy asked.  
"Well...there it is."  
  
A few weeks passed without incident at the Burrow. Then, as though the only constant thing in Harry's life was pain, something else bad went and happened.  
The badness really began the night before. Harry had been dreaming about Voldemort. Though these dreams came almost as often as the sunrise, they still had an effect on Harry.  
These days, Harry no longer roomed with Ron. Harry had been given Percy's old room... which was just as well. It was right across the hall from Ginny's room.  
When Harry awoke, she was there.  
"Harry, wake up! Wake up!" she said, prodding his arm.  
Though the dream had been frightening, Harry had no trouble adjusting to the situation. He decided to have a little fun.  
Pretending to still be asleep, Harry turned over, and, softly, he muttered, "Ginny..."  
Ginny stopped attempting to wake him up. She listened, intently.  
Doing his best to keep from laughing, Harry continued. "Oh, Ginny..."  
She was staring at him. So, he did the natural thing.  
"BOO!!!"  
Ginny jumped. "Oh...! Harry! You're terrible! I try to help you, and you frighten me half to death..." she trailed off as he sat up and drew her down into what could best be described as a 'sitting snuggle'.  
Ginny forgot her anger. Which is why, when Harry thanked her, she asked back, "for what?"  
Laughing, Harry took her hand and lead her from his room, down to breakfast. He enjoyed waking up to Ginny, but he was quite positive that Mrs. Weasley wouldn't approve if she found her only daughter in his bedroom so early in the morning.  
The rest of the morning passed without much comment. It was early August; all the students wanted to get started on their homework, and there was no better place to do that then out it the garden.  
As Ron was asking Hermione a question about Veritaserum, Harry felt a sudden, sharp pain in his scar.  
Clutching it, he let out a small gasp. Ginny, noticing this, put a hand on the back of his head. "Harry, are you okay? Harry...?"  
Harry looked up. The look in his eyes was frightening. "Run," he said, softly.  
"What?" Ginny asked.  
"Run!" Harry yelled. "We need to get out of here!" Raising his wand into the air, he yelled, "Accio brooms!"  
As their brooms came zooming up, Hermione, disturbed, looked at Harry. "Harry, what is happening?" she asked, urgently.  
"I'm not sure," he said. "But its not good. Hermione...he's here."  
The three gasped. Harry's eyes still contained that frightening glimmer. "Get out of here! As fast as possible!" he yelled.  
"What about mum?" Ginny asked.  
"I'll get her, now go!" Harry practically screamed, and he broke for the house. As he did, it blew up.  
"Mum!" Ginny yelled, tears coming from nowhere and appearing on her cheeks.   
"Ginny, go!" Harry yelled, again. None of them had taken off.  
"We have to make sure she's all right!" Ron yelled, and started towards the house.  
A voice from the flames stopped him in his tracks. "Oh, what's left of her is doing very well. Actually, at this temperature, I'm sure she's only at medium right now. Perhaps even medium rare."  
Hermione screamed as Voldemort, flanked by two Death-Eaters, immerged from the glow. Ron looked dead, himself.  
Only Ginny and Harry seemed to have retained their composure. Seemed.  
"Tom," she whispered. "I should have known that you would kill someone I loved."  
Voldemort looked down at her. His approach never slowed. "Do I know you, little girl?" he asked. Clearly, the usage of his true name had surprised him.  
"No," Ginny said. "I used to own something of yours...a certain diary," she said. Her voice was cold as a glacier.  
She came to stand by Harry, so that they were shoulder to shoulder, facing Voldemort.  
"Ah...yes, my diary," Voldemort said. "I had wondered what had become of that...I left in the care of Lucius, and he cared so little for my possessions that I feared he'd sold it...but I'm glad to hear that you, at least, benefited from it." He sneered at her.  
Ginny said nothing.  
Harry, instead, yelled back. "Never, never, say another word to her!" he screamed. He was losing it.  
Voldemort, grinning, sniffed at the air. "What is that I smell? Rage? Anger? Hatred? From the good, noble, Harry Potter? Come now, Harry - you don't really want to hurt me, do you?"  
Harry replied in a soft, dangerous voice. "Why don't you find out?"  
Voldemort's smile deepened. "I don't think so, Harry," he replied. "Not today, at any rate. I just came to check in, you know. Drop by, say hello, murder your best friends mother...what kind of mortal enemy would I be if I didn't do at least that?"  
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he was gone.  
Ginny stood, resolute, for about a second. Then, she collapsed against Harry. He held her as she sobbed into his shoulder.  
Two hours later, Tonks and Lupin found them, sitting in that exact same pose.  
  
Harry could not remember a single event that happened after the destruction of the Burrow. He could remember concepts, though. He could remember the concept of holding Ginny. He could remember the concept of being pulled by a hook behind his navel. He could remember the taste of a dreamless sleep potion.  
That was it.  
The next day, Harry awoke to find himself at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.  
Perhaps it was the subconscious part of Harry's brain that blocked out the events of the previous day; then again, maybe his conscious brain had been responsible, and then it just forgot afterward. Either way, Harry was not thinking of the Burrow as he got up.  
Twelve Grimauld Place had never been a particularly cheery place. Now, though, Harry had the distinct feeling that the old house was dead.  
Dead, Harry thought. So many people dead...Sirius...Mrs. Weasley...Cedric...Mom and Dad...why aren't I?  
Harry was staring blankly at the wall. His deep thoughts prevented him from noticing Dumbledore's arrival.  
"Good morning, Harry," he said.  
Harry turned. "How is it possible that this is, in any way, a good morning?" he asked.  
Dumbledore did not humor him. "Harry...I have nothing to say about what happened at the Burrow. We thought you were safe there...we thought we'd hidden it effectively enough...but we didn't. Our mistake caused Molly's death. Another body with which I shall have to live for the rest of my life," Dumbledore heaved an enormous sigh.  
He paused then. He looked tired. "Harry, I don't think that even this house is safe for you. There is only one place on Earth that is even remotely safe for you...Hogwarts."  
Harry didn't say anything. He was staring off blankly again.  
This time, Harry caused the pause. When it became apparent to Dumbledore that Harry was not going to say anything, he took the initiative out of Harry's hands.  
"We leave for Hogwarts in three hours...be ready," Dumbledore said, wearily. He left.  
Harry sat, staring blankly.  
  
To Hobbes288...good point! Sorry about that little mistake. My knowledge of Buffy becomes slightly fragmented after Season 4. Zaeria...that's a pretty funny idea...mind if I utilize it in a future chapter? Gyver...thank you. I watched Becoming again, and it still didn't seem very clear. To all of my reviewers...thanks a bunch. You guys do wonders for my poor, defenseless little ego. If you want to keep guessing about plot points in the near future, think about Craig...hee, hee. I have another question - am I spelling 'Grimauld' right? My copy of OOTP is on loan right now, so if you guys could holler out and tell me about that, I'd owe you some bunker shorts. What are bunker shorts, you say? When you know that, you'll know everything. Station! 


	8. The Eight Chapter

Welcome back! Chapter eight, now, huh? I'm really gonna do this...I'm really...gonna do this...wow! I'm really gonna do this! I'm going to actually dedicate myself to finishing a fanfic! Cool, huh? Yeah...I know. Shut up and write the damn fic, right? Is that all I mean to you? Am I just you're writing bitch? ... Yeah, okay, I'll shut up now.  
  
"Who?" Angel asked.  
"Exactly!" Whistler yelled. "You don't have a clue who he is! Everything is so messed up!"  
Angel shook his head. The Powers that Be had never been particularly helpful, and oftentimes they'd seemingly gone out of their omnipotent ways to be confusing, but this was just too much.  
"Okay, let's calm down now," Angel said, attempting to sound soothing.  
"Right, I'm calm," Whistler replied. He sat down, suddenly. "I need a drink."  
"You're barely making any sense as it is," Angel said to him. "I don't need you getting drunk to top that off."  
"Right, right, I get you," Whistler said. "What don't you get?"  
Angel stared at him, wondering where to begin.  
"Yeah, I thought so," Whistler said into the silence. "Okay, here's how it works: You were supposed to go to England and work with this Potter kid. You were going to be a sort of mentor to him. But you didn't. This whole LA thing was thrown together pretty quickly. While you and Buffy were deciding to split, the Powers were trying to make some plan for your future. But, without enough time to prepare, what was to come became clouded, even to them.  
"That's why things have been going so horribly wrong. Jasmine...the First...everything that's happened since you lost your soul is because the Powers haven't been able to keep up with the changing times."  
"That doesn't sound very omnipotent," Angel pointed out.  
"Angel, buddy, we're talking about guys who are used to planning things centuries in advance," Whistler replied. "They're not big on the two minute warning.   
"Anyway, you moved to LA, and things pretty much happened on their own from there. I've been running all over the world for the last five years trying to figure out how this stuff was supposed to go down, and now, I've got a pretty good idea of it."  
"How's that?" Angel asked. He was leaning towards confused again.  
"It's all interconnected," Whistler explained, explaining nothing. "What's been happening here, in Sunnydale, and at Hogwarts and the AWA.  
"Jasmine was pretty much the biggest baddy you ever had to face, right? Don't even answer that. I know its true. Do you think that it's coincidence that Buffy beat the First at the same time you beat Jasmine? Do you think its coincidence that soon after that, the AWA got destroyed? Let me clue you in on something, Angel: there is no such thing as coincidence in your world."  
Angel sat back in his chair. He was reeling. Like things weren't confusing enough! He suddenly wondered just how much stress his vampiric brain could handle. Vampires weren't meant to be half as deep as he was. Or so he prided himself.  
"So...what comes next?" Angel asked, for lack of anything better to say.  
"You still haven't heard the whole story, Angel," Whistler said. For the first time that evening, he seemed more nervous then angry.  
"When all that stuff started going crazy, I fell back on one of my other...uh...projects. Kid named Craig. I hadn't been planning on sending him to the AWA...I had thought that he was going to be the next guardian of the Sunnydale Hellmouth...but obviously, that wasn't going to be necessary. Not back then, anyway.  
"So I sent Craig to school. He's a special kid - real special. He's the only one who survived the AWA."  
"What is he?" Angel asked.  
Whistler sighed. "You can't comprehend what, exactly, he is," he said, heavily. "Craig, himself, can't, though he does comprehend an amazing amount for a kid his age.  
"You'll meet him soon, you know," Whistler continued. "He's in England right now. You're going to go there, too."  
"I am?" Angel asked.  
"Yeah," Whistler said. "You'll get to meet Craig...and Harry Potter."  
  
At first glance, Diagon Alley was nothing particularly odd, Buffy thought. Upon closer examination, the stores and shops were very, very unorthodox.  
Buffy had left the Slayers with Faith to get settled in at the Leaky Cauldron. It was going to be tight - the place only had fifteen rooms available. Buffy had wanted to do a bit of exploring on her own.  
The Alley was well lit, but where the light was coming from was a huge mystery to Buffy. As she walked up and down the main street, Buffy noticed that the light didn't seem to cast shadows.  
The people lining the streets were some of the most diverse groups Buffy had ever seen. As Trick had put it all those years ago, Sunnydale was strictly of the 'Caucasian Persuasion'. Diagon Alley was a different matter altogether. Not only were there people of all races out, several of them seemed to be of different species.  
As Buffy peered in the window of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, a thought struck her. She'd never changed her money after arriving in Britain.  
Stopping a man, she asked, "Excuse me, sir, do you know where I could change some money?"  
The man pointed. "Gringotts Bank, right up there."  
"Thank you," Buffy said.  
"Are you new here?" the man asked.  
"Yes," Buffy replied. "Am I that obvious?"  
"We've been getting quite a few American refugees, after the AWA..." he trailed off, a pained expression on his face. "And then the Daily Prophet, with that article...how is it that they can mess up the truth so badly?"  
Wondering how to respond to this, Buffy took a chance. "I wonder," she said, and made her escape.  
Buffy hurried in the direction the man had pointed. She wanted to avoid contact with wizards for a little while, at least; she really didn't have a clue what to say to most of them.  
Buffy didn't really know what to expect in a wizarding bank. As she entered and looked around, she gasped.  
If there was one thing she hadn't expected, it was goblins.  
Okay, she thought. Wizards have goblins running their bank. Lets see who's mental now?  
There was what appeared to be a service desk in one corner. Buffy approached it cautiously. Her experiences with goblins were few and painful, and she became distinctly aware of her lack of backup.  
All alone, she thought. I am never going to get away from that one.  
"Uhh...hello?" she said.  
The goblin at the desk looked up. "Yes?" he...she...it asked.  
"I was wondering if I could change some money here," Buffy said.  
"You could," the goblin replied.  
The silence stretched like a rubber band. Aware suddenly that it might help things along if she actually took out the money to change, Buffy dug into her pocket. She produced fifty dollars.  
"Here," she said, handing it to the goblin. He examined it for a moment, then stuffed it into a little slot in his desk.  
"Fifty dollars, American," he said, seemingly at the little slot. Several large, golden coins came sliding out, followed by a few silver and bronze ones.  
"There you go," the goblin said, disinterested.  
Buffy looked at the coins. She had no idea what they were. They looked valuable...but they didn't look like any money she'd ever even heard of.  
"Uhh...what is this?" she asked. The goblin looked up. "Money," it said, looking now as though Buffy was a bit crazy. "You use it to buy things." Buffy stared back. "Right," she said. "but...well..." she trailed off. She couldn't think of anything intelligent to say, so she just went with the first thing that came to mind. "How do I use it?" Now the goblin seemed convinced that Buffy was out of her mind. "You go to a store. You pick something up. You give the keeper the money, and you take the something. We call it buying around these parts."  
This was getting her nowhere fast. Buffy tried yet again, and failed yet again, to put into words her question. Instead of saying anything, she simply thanked the goblin and left, hurriedly.  
Back out in the Alley, Buffy looked around her with a new nervous feeling prickling in the back of her head. She was not in a favorable position.  
She began walking back to the Leaky Cauldron. Then she stopped, deciding that she would have to just swallow her pride and ask someone.  
Figuring that she'd have more luck in an actual shop, Buffy turned to the closest one: Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.  
As she entered the shop, there was a tremendous explosion. Smoke met her nostrils and burned at her eyes. She rushed forward to make sure everything was okay.  
"So sorry, miss," said a voice out of the smoke. "Just testing some new merchandise...well, hello!" the man said, seeing Buffy.  
"Hi," she said, slowly. "I was looking for someone who could explain the money around here."  
"Ah, I see," the man said. "Well, I'm sure we can help you with that. Fred! Fred, get up here!"  
Another man immerged from the back of the shop, carrying a long, wooden wand. He waved it, and immediately the smoke disappeared.  
The shop took Buffy aback as it came into view. It was nearly three stories high, made of an impressive mahogany, and lining the walls were endless shelves. On these shelves were all sorts of things - many of them things that Buffy didn't recognize.  
Some things she did recognize. There were several woopie-cusions, water balloons, and firecrackers.  
Huh, Buffy thought. I've walked into a wizarding joke shop. That figures - I'm probably going to be the biggest joke in the wizarding world - I ought to fit right in.  
She was still gazing in amazement when the new man, Fred, said, "Ah, so you like our little shop, eh?"  
Buffy looked back and was startled anew. The two men were identical. "Yes...it's amazing," she said. "I've never seen anything like it."  
"Well, then, I guess you haven't been around magic for too long," the first man said. "And by the way, my names is George Weasley, and this is my brother, Fred."  
"Pleased to meet you," Buffy told them. "And you were right...I haven't been around wizards much."  
"Well, figuring out our money is pretty easy," George said. "Its like this: The big gold one is a Galleon, the silver one is a sickle, and the little bronze one is a Knut. Seventeen sickles to a Galleon, and twenty-nine Knuts to a sickle."  
"Right," Buffy said, quickly memorizing his words. "Thank you."  
"Oh, don't leave yet!" Fred said, running around to block her exit. "Since you're new here, I feel compelled to give you a free sample of some of our new product."  
For just a moment, Buffy had considered attacking Fred to get him out her way. She discarded the idea quickly. Can't go and attack a salesman for trying to sell you something.   
Sighing slightly, Buffy resigned herself. "Okay," she said. "But make it quick, please. I don't have a whole ton of time."  
"Quick as lightning, miss!" George cried, and, in an overly dramatic flourish, drew out his hand and held it, open, in front of Buffy. It was empty.  
"There's nothing there," Buffy said, wondering if this was another one of those wizard things that she was unlikely to get.  
"Really?" Fred asked. "Look again."  
She did, and found that there was something there, now. A small, wrapper lay in George's palm.  
"What is it?" Buffy asked.  
"This...is a Tooth Decay Taffy!" he said, impressively.  
Buffy looked blank. "What does it do?" she asked.  
"It'll cause whoever eats it to lose their teeth," Fred explained. "Great way to shut someone up without seeming too rude."  
Buffy was appalled. "That's kinda sick," she said, and turned to go.  
"They grow back after a moment!" Fred said. "It's only a joke...!" but she was gone.  
Fred turned back to his brother. "I guess that some people just can't take a joke."  
Even as he said this, an unfamiliar owl flew in the window, a letter tied to its leg. George took the letter, opened it, read it, and promptly fainted.  
Buffy found, upon arriving back at the Leaky Cauldron, that everyone was settled in and everything was going fine. Faith and Willow were both in the bar waiting for Buffy's return.  
"How'd it go?" Faith asked, slipping off her bar stool and approaching Buffy. Willow followed.  
"Okay...I think," Buffy said. "This place makes about as much sense as Andrew."  
They all laughed. Buffy was the first to grow serious again. "I'm serious. We need to learn as much as we can about this whole society as fast as possible. Otherwise, we'll never be able to find this Dumbledore guy, or his school."  
"You'd have thought that Wesley might have prepared us a little," Willow grumbled. "We were in LA for four weeks, and what did he tell us about this place?"  
"Lots of magic," Faith offered.  
"Helpful," Willow said, a note of sarcasm present that wasn't usually there.  
"Still, you'll fit in better than any of us, Wil," Buffy said, reasonably. "None of us control magic the way you do - not even Giles."  
"I suppose that's true," Willow said. "But from what I've seen so far, and granted, that's not much, their magic is different from mine."  
"But you have magic," Faith said. "Which is more than you can say for the rest of us."  
Willow nodded, reluctantly. "Yeah...I guess."  
"Come on," Buffy said to the two of them. "Nothing more to accomplish tonight. Let's get some sleep, then we can get started in the morning."  
As she ascended the stairs to where her own, private, room was, Buffy realized that she had no idea how to 'get started'.  
  
Harry sat, staring blankly at the wall. He didn't notice much of the real world around him - which was slightly metaphorical, considering his deep thoughts on life. He didn't notice Ginny's arrival.  
"Harry..." she asked, hesitantly.  
He didn't answer.  
"Harry...Harry, talk to me," she pleaded.  
"It was my fault," Harry said, in a dead, emotionless voice.  
Ginny screamed.  
Jerked back into reality, Harry leapt up and ran quickly to her. "Ginny...! What's the matter?"  
Ginny was sobbing. "Don't...say...that!" she screamed at him. "Don't say it...it wasn't your fault!"  
Harry took her in his arms, never noticing that those members of the Order who occupied the house had rushed to the door upon hearing Ginny's scream. Harry held her close as she sobbed.  
"Harry, don't you see it?" she said, through her sobbing. This was costing her a great deal. "He was...trying to...make you despair...he wants you to lose hope...so that he can beat you...without hope, you can't win, Harry...he knows that..." and she lost it completely, crying into Harry's shoulder.  
Ron and Hermione, standing unnoticed in the doorway, were both crying too. Slowly, Ron took Hermione's hand. She squeezed it tightly, without looking at him.  
When Ginny finally pulled away from Harry, their audience was gone and she had stopped crying.  
Harry leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "Thank you."  
She took his hand and gave it a hard squeeze. "Just don't forget - never lose hope."  
She left.  
Harry was, yet again, staring at the wall. But his stare was no longer blank.  
  
Later on, Harry left the confines of his room and ventured into the kitchen, intent on finding something to eat. What he found was Lupin - attempting to cook.  
A large book was propped up next to the stove, and Lupin was muttering to himself, "Add oregano...then...no, add egg...oh, no, that was the last step..."  
"Hello, professor," Harry said.  
Lupin looked up. "Hello, Harry," he said. "Feeling better?"  
"No," Harry said. "But I'm feeling; that's something," he added.  
Lupin smiled. "Yes - it is. Say, would you like to try -"  
Harry cut him off quickly. "No, thanks, I don't think I'm very hungry right now." He didn't want to take any chances on Lupin's cooking.  
"Suit yourself," Lupin said, and went back to muttering and attempting to cook.  
Harry left, in search of something to occupy the time. He really wanted to find Ginny and talk to her; though he doubted that, just now, he'd be able to find a topic of conversation that wouldn't result in crying. Inquiring about the weather would be utterly pathetic.  
Why is it that they always cry when I'm with them? Harry wondered. Without fail - Cho, Hermione, now Ginny...  
Harry noticed that the parlor door was unlocked, which was rare. Members of the Order had used the parlor to train for dueling and other forms of magical combat. Harry suspected that it had been left open on purpose.  
His assumption was correct. As he entered, Harry became aware of another person's presence, though he could not see that person.  
"Who's there?" Harry asked.  
Moody stepped out of the nothingness in front of Harry, discarding his invisibility cloak. "How'd you know I was there?" he asked.  
"Just as feeling," Harry replied. He looked around.  
"Do you train with all these weapons?" he asked. There were all sorts of weapons lining the walls - medieval swords and maces, hammers, flintlocks, Japanese katana's, a bo staff, and several other instruments of destruction that Harry did not recognize. Moody, himself, carried a small, oddly shaped axe.  
"Not all of them - only some," Moody replied. "Mostly, weapons have fallen into disuse in modern magical dueling - but you have to expect the unexpected these days."  
Harry couldn't have agreed more.  
"Would you like to learn a few things, Potter?" Moody asked, eyeing him with that frightening revolving eye.  
"Yes - I think I would," Harry said.  
Moody nodded. He cast around for a second, then selected and old, gleaming broadsword. "I believe you've used a sword before, Potter?" he asked, handing Harry the weapon.  
Harry nodded. Three years ago, in the Chamber of Secrets, he'd used the sword of Godric Gryffindor - and that had turned out all right.  
"Good - we'll see how you do against a competent foe," Moody said, cynicism dripping from his mouth.  
Moody lunged at Harry, chopping swiftly downward with his axe. Harry brought up his sword to meet the blow, and caught it on the blade of his sword. He pushed upwards, sending Moody backwards into a spin. In one fluid motion, as he spun, Moody slashed upwards at Harry. The axe stopped less than an inch from Harry's throat.  
"You're dead," Moody said, simply. "But that wasn't bad, Potter. That wasn't bad at all. Most wouldn't have know to hold the sword like that - but, I daresay, no one around here has ever faced a Basilisk with a sword!" Moody guffawed. Deciding that it was best to follow along, and he laughed, too.  
They trained for an hour, Moody instructing Harry in the various usages of the sword. Harry proved to be a fast learner. Soon, he was parrying and thrusting in a complex, strategic way that landed Moody on his back.  
"Very good, Potter!" Moody said, gruffly. "If only I'd actually been able to teach you Defense Against the Dark Arts...you've got a promising future as an Auror, Potter." Harry beamed.  
They traded weapons, and Moody explained the axe to Harry. "It's called Hunga Munga, Harry," he said. "Its constructed so that, when thrown, it'll cut almost no matter which end hits the target. You can fight hand to hand with it too, of course; it's quite lightweight..." and so on, and so forth.  
They practiced with the Hunga Munga for another hour, until, finally, Dumbledore arrived and interrupted the training session.  
Waiting to make his presence known, Dumbledore waited until Harry scored a bulls-eye throwing the Hunga Munga before saying anything. "Good shot, Harry," he said, forgoing the usual 'hello'.  
"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry said. "Is it time to go yet?"  
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "We must go now, Harry. Make your good-byes quick; you'll see your friends in another few weeks. Quickly, now." And he left through the door.  
"Thank you, sir," Harry said to Moody. He went to hand the axe back to the old Auror.  
"Keep it," Moody said to him. "You're better with it than most in the Order, and it might just do you some good someday."  
Harry nodded and strapped the Hunga Munga to his belt. "Thanks again. I'll be seeing you around," he said, turning his back and leaving.  
Moody nodded too. "Yes...we will," he said simply, and turned back to his training.  
Harry entered the living room through the kitchen and found his friends, along with Lupin and Dumbledore, assembled there. At once, Harry felt awkward, what with a small battle-axe strapped to his belt. All of them eyed it, but no one said anything.  
"Good-bye, Harry," Hermione said.  
"Be seeing you in September, mate," Ron said, shaking Harry's hand.  
"See you," he said, and turned to Ginny. "Bye, Ginny," he said.  
"For now, anyway," she said, and hugged him. Such a public display of affection surprised Harry, to say the least, but he did not dislike it.  
Once they'd broken apart, Harry stepped up to Lupin. "Good-bye, Professor," he said.  
Lupin waved him off, slightly. "Call me Remus," he said, laughingly.  
They shook hands. And then, without a word, Dumbledore took hold of Harry, and they were off.  
  
As they came to stop, Harry realized that Dumbledore had been holding a portkey. Expecting to see Hogwarts, Harry was surprised to find himself in Diagon Alley.  
"Professor...?" Harry asked.  
Dumbledore answered the unasked question. "Hogwarts can no longer be reached by portkey, Harry," he said. "Nor can Hogsmeade. Safety spells, you know. The closest you can get to either one is about fifty miles."  
Dumbledore looked around. "Ali...where are you?"  
Harry looked around, as well. Diagon Alley seemed vastly unchanged. People still packed the streets, bustling to and fro to buy things from the various magical shops.  
"Oh, blast it!" Dumbledore exclaimed, sounding frustrated. "I should never have let Mundungus set this up with anyone he calls an 'old business partner'. Come on, Harry - we don't need anyone here recognizing you." He took Harry by the wrist and lead him into the nearest shop.  
Harry looked around as they entered. The shop's ceiling was at least three stories high. Harry recognized various things - Extendable Ears, Extendable Eyes, and even two or three Portable Swamps. Buckets of Canary Creams and Ton Tongue Toffees were set about like islands. It only took Harry a moment to register where he was - Fred and George's premises...Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.  
Lee Jordan was behind the counter. He jumped up when he saw who it was who had entered. "Professor Dumbledore...Harry! Welcome to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!" His abrupt smile faltered slightly. "What are the two of you doing here?"  
"Mr. Jordan, you wouldn't, by any chance, have seen or spoken to Ali Bashir today, would you?" Dumbledore asked.  
"Why, no - I haven't seen Ali in weeks - said he was leaving on a 'business opportunity'," Lee replied. "Probably smuggling more flying carpets into the country."  
"That," Dumbledore said. "is exactly what he is doing. I sent him."  
"You did? Well...that's surprising..." Lee said. Surprise wasn't as a strong enough word for the emotion on his face.  
"Yes, I suppose it would be - to you, anyway," Dumbledore said. "He isn't back yet? He should have been...oh, well. Harry, would you come with me while I see if he's at the Leaky Cauldron? Its probable that he went in there right after getting back...no sense of responsibility..."  
As they walked, Harry did his best to conceal his face. Dumbledore had been right - they didn't need anyone recognizing him. Harry wasn't sure what public opinion of him was, now; since the Ministry had admitted Voldemort's return, the Daily Prophet had ceased its campaign of slander against him. Still, he didn't want to see whether or not the people like him again. If there was a chance they still didn't...  
When Harry entered the Leaky Cauldron, a pace or two behind Dumbledore, the first thing he noticed was the abundance of girls. The second thing he noticed was the culture shock. Nearly everyone inside was speaking in an American dialect.  
Harry shrugged, inwardly. It was none of his business, really, who these people were, but he still couldn't help but be curious.  
Even as Harry attempted to eve's drop on the Americans, Dumbledore walked up to the counter. "Hello, Tom," he said.  
"Ah, Professor Dumbledore!" Tom cried. The Americans stopped talking and turned, intently, to listen. "How've you been?"  
"I have been decent enough," Dumbledore answered. "I was wondering if you'd seen Ali Bashir recently."  
Tom grimaced. "In the back," he said, pointing. "Not in good shape, either - looks like he flew those carpets right through a hurricane."  
Dumbledore thanked Tom and began to walk over towards the corner in which Ali Bashir resided. Harry joined him.  
Before they could reach the corner, however, the Americans had stopped them.  
"Albus Dumbledore?" the blonde one, who seemed to be in charge, asked.  
"Yes," Dumbledore replied, smoothly. "I am he. May I inquire as to who you are, exactly?"  
"My name is Buffy Summers," she said. "I've come halfway around the world to see you."  
  
Finally - quality interaction dawns! Pun not intended on the 'dawn' thing. As always, R/R! Oh, and, I've got some really bad news. School started a couple weeks ago, and I've got a jammed schedule this coming week. I have maybe three hours a day to myself, and I have all Honors classes with lots of homework. What I'm trying to say is - don't expect another update for at least a week - maybe two. Sorry...this is not my choice. I'd much rather be writing then doing community service. Better end on a positive note, though, right? Uh, okay...oh, screw it. Have a good week - I won't. 


	9. The Ninth Chapter

Here I am, writing again. It's Wednesday, so I'm halfway through the week of hell. I decided to take a break from working to do some writing. Chances are that this won't come out until way, way, after I'm writing it. Yay for future tense - no, I guess that really wasn't funny. Story time.  
  
Dumbledore eyed Buffy fiercely. "And why is it that you have traveled so far to seek me out?" he asked.  
"I...well, we...need your help," she said. "It's something really, really important, too," she added.  
"Yes, of course it is," Dumbledore said, as though he wasn't quite sure whether to believe the blonde American or not.  
Buffy decided that further explanation was necessary. "It's about Voldemort," she said.  
The reaction from the surrounding pub was explosive. Several witches shrieked; a man at the bar stood up fast, hitting his knees against the bar and instantly falling back to his stool; and Tom dropped the mug he was cleaning to the floor, where it shattered.  
Dumbledore and the boy were the only two people who seemed unaffected by the sound of Voldemort's name. No, that wasn't entirely true; they were, at least, surprised to hear the name; but they didn't fear it. Buffy took note of this and filed the note away in the back of her brain.  
Dumbledore's gaze became more intense. "There are few who actually speak Voldemort's name aloud," he said.  
"You do," Buffy pointed out.  
"Yes...I do," Dumbledore agreed. "But I am part of what some might describe as a 'brave' minority. And you speak his name without the faintest trace of fear," he said. The look he gave her was like a razor.  
"Maybe we don't fear him," Buffy said, looking around at her group. Faith nodded.  
Dumbledore just stared for a moment. Then he nodded, slowly. "You don't...hmmm...yes, well, perhaps we should continue this conversation somewhere else," he said.   
"Yeah," Buffy said. "Maybe at...umm...Bogdarts," she finished, nodding.  
"Yes, at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, putting stress on the name of his school.  
Buffy grimaced slightly, but nodded again. "Yeah...yeah, that's the one," she said.  
"If you would, kindly, follow me, I believe I can provide transportation," Dumbledore said. He walked over to the corner of the room. "Ali...Ali, is that you?" he asked.  
Buffy looked at what he was speaking to. Her first impression had been that it was a pile of old rags, but now she realized that it was a person under there.  
The rags shifted, and Ali Bashir lifted his head out. "'Lo, Dumbledore," he said. "Got what you asked me to," he added. He sounded sober enough, but Harry and Buffy both guessed that he was, in fact, drunk.  
Dumbledore leaned closer to him and sniffed. Then, pulling out his wand, he said, softly, "Prosoberis."  
Instantly, Ali Bashir shot into the air, his face purple. He gasped at the air for a moment until the violent color of his face finally went down. Once he had regained his breath, Ali looked at Dumbledore.  
Before he could say anything, Dumbledore gestured towards the door. "Lets go get it, then," he said.  
He picked up Ali by the scruff of his neck and hauled him from the Leaky Cauldron, the boy following closely. Buffy and the others followed, too, but a bit more slowly.  
Willow turned, excitedly, to Kennedy. "Wow! That was magic! And it was so much like mine - why, I think I know that spell!"  
"Calm down, Willow," Kennedy said. "I'm sure that we'll be seeing more."  
Willow looked her. "Yeah, we will, but still...magic!" Willow said, in the same perky voice that had once been her trademark and was now making resurgence.  
Kennedy looked at Willow strangely. This was a new side of Willow, a more...cute...side. Kennedy was used to Willow being more sexy.  
Then again, cute is just as sexy.  
The group moved through the Alley in a relaxed but tightly knit group. Everything seemed to be going fine; Dumbledore was conversing with Buffy about recent events in the muggle world; Harry was pretty much by himself, though he was distinctly aware of the attention of one of the girls in the group; and the others were all commingling. Things were going fine.  
Quite suddenly, several of the girls turned, almost in unison, to stare at a small group of males leaning against the window and wall of Quality Quidditch Supplies.  
Buffy stopped talking abruptly. "What is it?" Dumbledore asked.  
"Those men are vampires," she answered, indicating the small gaggle of guys.  
Dumbledore looked at her quizzically. "How do you know this?" he asked.  
"I just do," Buffy said. She turned to the Slayers."Faith, it's you and me; I don't want them getting into any unnecessary fights. No, Kennedy, don't complain; I don't need you getting killed now."  
Buffy and Faith walked away from the group. "How do you want 'em?" Faith asked. "Wanna go for synchronized deal and impress Uncle Scrooge over there?"  
Buffy looked at her quizzically. "Oh, come on," Faith said, almost playfully. "Just this once, for old times sake?"  
"Faith, 'old times' would involve you killing people and me putting you in a coma," Buffy said. They were getting nearer to the vamps, trying to appear unconcerned with them.  
"Yeah, there is that problem," Faith agreed. "But we could skip that part."  
Buffy grinned. "Sounds good." This was said just as she came within range of the first vamp.  
Her kick came as a slight surprise to the vampire, who had actually been assessing Buffy as a possible dinner entrŽe. He was already leaning against the wall; the force of Buffy's kick drove him into the wall so hard that it was dented.  
Faith also managed to get a quick upper hand. Her right jab caught the vamp in the face, disorienting him for a moment. It was enough to let Faith set him up. She delivered a quick kick to his abdomen, doubling him up, and she plunged her stake directly through his back and into his heart.  
The vamp shuddered, and turned to dust.  
Faith whirled, but wasn't fast enough. The second of the four vamps had jumped her. She was caught quickly in the face and the chest, and flung violently back into the street. Just as she was getting back to her feet, a jet of red light flew past her. It connected with the vampire, and it fell down, unconscious. Faith turned to see who had helped her.  
Harry stood staring at the vampire he'd just stunned. He'd never fought a vampire before; indeed, he'd never even seen one. It was vicious looking, perhaps even more so then those other creatures he'd fought.  
As Buffy dusted her last vamp, Faith walked calmly over to the stunned vampire and jabbed here stake into it. It instantly exploded into dust.  
Faith and Buffy walked back to the group. "So much for the synchronized slaying," Faith said.  
"No big," Buffy said. "We'll get them next time."  
Faith smiled.  
  
Rejoining the group, Buffy went up to Dumbledore. Before she could say anything, he said, "Very impressive."  
"Well, we try," Buffy said. "Do you think that you could use us in your fight?"  
They resumed walking. "I'm not sure," Dumbledore admitted. "But I do think that the more people on our side, the better."  
Buffy smiled. "The more the merrier," she said, making an attempt at a joke.  
Dumbledore laughed. They rounded a corner, and Ali Basir finally told them to stop. "Here they are," he said.  
At first, Buffy didn't know what he was talking about. They were in a small, dingy gap between the buildings of Diagon Alley; a gap that was devoid of anything besides some old, ratty carpets.  
"These are the best you could find?" Dumbledore asked.  
"Top, grade A quality," Ali Bashir confirmed. "The very best. I know the guy who put the Flying Charm on it personally, and he's trustworthy enough."  
Dumbledore nodded, but everyone assembled, with the possible exception of Ali Bashir, noticed that he wasn't completely convinced.  
It was then that it clicked in Buffy's mind. Before she could stop it, she'd blurted out, "Flying carpets?"  
Dumbledore nodded. He muttered something that no one could hear, and suddenly, the carpets rose into the air, as though being held by invisible strings.  
"Cool," Kennedy couldn't help but say.  
"I'd suggest that you all hold onto them, tightly," Dumbledore said, as they mounted their carpets. "Most flying carpets are one speed only: fast."  
He wasn't kidding. As soon as they'd all climbed aboard a carpet, the whole lot zoomed into the air. Several people nearly fell off, but none did, thanks to handy grip bars installed on the carpets.  
"Grip bars on carpets..." Xander muttered. "And we all thought that Sunnydale High had some strange things going on..."  
Willow and Buffy, who had joined him on his carpet, laughed. Xander was making jokes again; Xander was acting more like his old self, in other words.  
His old self, Buffy thought. Who had Xander been before she'd moved to Sunnydale? Who had any of them been? And what might they have been...?  
They'd been down that road before, of course. Buffy knew what Sunnydale probably would have been like if she had never moved in. But still, she couldn't help but wonder about it all.  
Xander and Willow had been two perfectly normal high school friends. Now, Willow was the most powerful Wiccan in the world, and Xander had lost an eye in the fight against the source of all evil on Earth.  
Normalcy ran and hid whenever Buffy went somewhere.  
She smiled as she saw her two friends laughing and joking again. It had been so long since she'd seen either of them truly happy...so long since any of them had been able to relax entirely...  
She straightened slightly. She could never relax entirely - too much of that would lead to bloody, gory, generally unpleasant death. Of that, Buffy was sure.  
"Where's Kennedy?" Buffy asked, suddenly, before she realized she was talking.  
"Hmm...? Oh, yeah," Willow said. "She said she was going to ride with someone else, and we really shouldn't crowd each other too much - you know, we don't really know how these wizards would accept a couple of super powerful American lesbians," Willow said, her face falling halfway through into a worried look. "What if they're intolerant?"  
"Willow, I'm sure that there is nothing to be worried about," Buffy said. "They grow up around magic - like in a fairy tale - I bet they sing about racial equality every night before bed."  
"Intolerance? I've never met anyone more concerned with the petty details than our dear Minister," Dumbledore was saying to Kennedy. "You needn't worry, though; Hogwarts will always be welcome to you and your friends, and if the Minister gives you any trouble, than I'll make sure that he becomes aware of your...err...particular strengths."  
Kennedy grinned. "Thanks, dude."  
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, and muttered, so that no one could hear him, "Americans."  
  
Angel was on a plane. This was his primary concern for the moment, though, buried in the back of his mind, he was worried about Buffy.  
Why, oh why, did I do this? He thought. Thinking that Whistler could be persuasive was ridiculous; the little man was incredibly annoying most of the time.  
And yet...this wasn't the first time Whistler had convinced Angel to do something drastic. And this was not nearly as drastic as the last time. Perhaps that should have calmed Angel.  
It didn't.  
"I like boats," he said suddenly. "They're so nice and...not high," he continued. "They don't fall out of the sky much, you know?"  
Whistler groaned. "Angel, buddy, we have to get there now. A boat would take too long."  
Angel frowned and didn't say anything.  
Angel hadn't been to England in nearly a century. It hadn't been so fun then, either - he was just passing through on his way to nowhere. His soul was still new then, and he hadn't really been sane at the time.  
Now, though...now Angel was sane. He was, by a certain amount of stretching of his imagination, rested. This time it would be different.  
Angel looked around the plane at the various members of his small group. Whistler had visited every corner of the Earth long before Angel had even been born. Fred had visited several other countries in her youth. Gunn had never left California, if you temporarily forgot their excursion to Pylea. And Wesley...well, England had been Wesley's home during his childhood. Angel couldn't tell what Wesley was thinking - indeed, he couldn't read Wesley, either, but that was nothing new.  
Wesley's thoughts were scattered. He was intentionally avoiding thinking of any one thing in particular. The Watcher's Council was gone...he'd never really like most of his fellow Watcher's, but they were acquaintances, and they did fight evil alongside him. They weren't the best - but the greater majority of them were good people. Now, they were just dead people.  
All of a sudden, and quite unbidden, Wesley thought of something, and it wiped away all of his other thoughts. One word: home...  
His old home outside of London...he wondered what had happened to it. Both of his parents were long dead - and he wasn't aware of them willing the house away to anyone. Chances were it was still empty.  
Wesley shuddered inwardly. The house...empty. It felt wrong, somehow.  
Wesley wasn't aware of any particular plan - they'd packed and taken care of AI and Wolfram and Hart so that both business' could run themselves for a while. It was funny, really. They'd taken control of Wolfram and Hart barely two months ago, and they were already running off and leaving it to take care of itself.  
Now, though, he had other things to consider. They needn't stay at the Leaky Cauldron...if...they didn't want to....they could use....his parents house.  
Wesley was asleep.  
Fred looked over and chuckled to herself. Wesley had just conked right out - it was hard to imagine that tough as nails Wesley was a sleeper.  
Then again, it had been quite a while since any one of them had been on a plane. And Wesley hadn't always been so hard.  
Fred, herself, hadn't flown for years, and the memories of her previous flights were a bit foggy. She'd been through so much since then that a trip to Disney World when she was eight didn't take top priority in her memory.  
She remembered being slightly scared by the experience of flying, but only as eight years old get scared. Now, however, she got to sit back and watch as Angel and Gunn sweat bullets.  
Gunn was nervous. He'd never, not once, been on a plane. It was fun, in that way that normal stuff can be fun, but it was dangerous, too. It was the kind of danger he couldn't control, and he severely didn't like that kind.  
To take his mind off things, Gunn looked around at his friends. He saw Fred staring at him, and she blushed and looked away.  
He really didn't need that.  
Perhaps it was sooner, perhaps it was later, but eventually, the captain came on and told them that the plane would be landing shortly.  
  
  
  
Gee- that chapter was a whole lot of nothing, huh? They traveled - that's it. Wow, lets break out the champagne! I hope to get some new and innovative stuff in the next chapter. And I'm dreadfully sorry that this took so long - I've been battling with writers block and lack of time. I have no idea when the next chapter will be out - you'll just have to be patient. It's a virtue, you know. 


	10. The Tenth Chapter

I've made personal history. This is the first chapter that I didn't start until after the last was published. I fear that I'm losing my touch. If you have any suggestions or ANYTHING that you think could aid this story, feel free. Please.  
  
It was dark when the small fleet of carpets arrived at Hogwarts. The carpets themselves were a bit worn out from the journey, causing them to land rather bumpily.  
Willow and Xander climbed painfully to their feet. Buffy had retained her sense of balance during the landing and had been able to stand immediately.  
"Wow..." she said, trailing off. Hogwarts was quite possibly the most exhilarating thing she'd ever seen.  
"Yeah, I second that wow, and raise you an 'oh my,'" Xander said, also transfixed.  
Dumbledore, along with Kennedy, approached them from behind. "Do you like my humble adobe?" he said, grinning slightly.  
"Yeah...nice," Buffy said, rather weakly.  
The rest of the Slayers were also experiencing awe at the sight of the huge castle. Harry took a moment to stare with them.  
No matter how much he liked the Burrow, and no matter how long he'd lived at Privet Drive, Hogwarts had always been Harry's home. The castle was a dangerous place to be sometimes, but Harry knew that he would rather be there than any other place on Earth.  
Or off Earth, for that matter.  
Dumbledore allowed the group a moment to adjust to the sight of the castle. Then, he said, gently, "Perhaps we should get up to the castle and get inside. It will soon be raining, and Hogwarts rain is just as wet as other rain."  
Buffy nodded, and motioned for Faith. "Okay, everyone, lets get going."  
Faith joined Buffy and Dumbledore as they walked up to the immense structure. "What's up, B?" she asked.  
"We need to work out the sleeping arrangements," Dumbledore said. "We've been adding to Hogwarts over the last few weeks; war preparations. There are five unused barracks on the opposite side of the castle. We've been meaning to garrison several units of goblins and Auror's there, but you are welcome to them in the interim."  
Faith looked to Buffy. "Sounds good to me. Just one thing: what's an interim?"  
"British for the right now," Buffy said. "We'll have to move out eventually."  
"What ev. Shouldn't be a problem, right?" Faith asked. "I'm sure we'll come up with something eventually."  
The skies were growing darker as the walked. Harry, despite his better manners, was eavesdropping, and he was getting an earful.  
Goblins and Aurors? At Hogwarts? He thought. Hogwarts at war was something he was going to have to get used to.  
Harry returned his attention to Dumbledore. "Construction on more barracks continues. By November, we should be able to house all of your Slayers. That is, if you don't mind such cramped quarters..."  
Faith and Buffy looked at each other and laughed hysterically.  
Dumbledore looked at them sideways.  
"We've been living in a single house, all of us, for the last few months," Buffy explained. "Your barracks will probably feel like the Four Seasons."  
They entered the castle. After the obligatory awed glances at the moving portraits, and a slightly tense meeting with the Bloody Baron, the Slayers arrived at the south exit. Harry had never known of the south exit before, and he was surprised that neither Fred nor George had ever mentioned it.  
Dumbledore pointed out onto the lawns. "There they are," he said.  
Buffy and the others looked out. What they saw were two squat buildings which seemed to be the size of outhouses.  
"Uhh..." Buffy said. "Are you sure that we'll all fit in there?" she asked.  
Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, I'm positive. Just wait."  
Buffy shrugged. Perhaps they lead downstairs?  
They walked out to the small buildings and filed inside. The sight that met them inside was just on this side of shocking.  
The tiny huts were actually three stories high. The barracks were divided into small individual rooms, with every two sharing a bathroom and a kitchen. The whole building seemed to be at least three hundred feet long.  
They all looked around in astonishment. Unsurprisingly, it was Willow who got it first.  
"You enlarged them with magic!" she said excitedly. Dumbledore nodded.  
"Make yourselves comfortable. Come on, Harry, lets leave them to it."  
They left.  
The Slayers all stood around for a moment, staring at their housing. So many new things...Buffy thought. It was all getting overwhelming.  
Surprisingly, it was Giles who brought them all out of it. "Come on, people," he said. "Lets get quartered, shall we?"  
As they wandered about, searching out rooms, Buffy and Faith met up and surveyed their prospects.  
"Not bad," Faith said. "Joint like this takes them a couple of weeks to build? And then do the shrinkage mojo? These guys are good."  
"Yeah," Buffy said, but she was distracted. A door at the end of the hall read 'CIC'.  
"What's 'CIC'?" Buffy asked.  
"Commander in Chief," Faith explained. "You know, the leader. That's you, B."  
Buffy nodded. "Yeah, I guess it is."  
They approached the door with, admittedly, a bit of apprehension. The CIC quarters were fairly large, thought they were only two stories, rather than three. There was a big desk, next to a fireplace. Two other rooms adjoined it, apparently only accessible through the bedroom. The first was a kitchen; the second was a bathroom.  
"Nice digs," Faith said, and left.  
Buffy nodded. Nice, indeed. As soon as the rest of the Slayers were quartered, Buffy climbed into her four poster bed and promptly fell asleep.  
  
Harry walked up to the castle with Dumbledore. They walked in silence.  
Finally, Harry couldn't take it any longer. "Sir...they're building barracks at Hogwarts?"  
Dumbledore regarded Harry as they walked. "Yes, Harry. In light of the Ministry's...epiphany...and the events at the AWA, it was deemed necessary. There's a lot you could learn from these soldiers."  
Harry considered for a moment. He hadn't thought much about the DA since its discovery and subsequent disbanding last year. Now that he thought about it, Harry was eager to begin teaching again, but he wasn't sure if it was needed, or if he would be allowed to, anyway.  
They entered the castle and took to the stairs. "Professor Dumbledore..." Harry began.  
"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore replied.  
"I was wondering if...if the DA would be allowed to restart, once the school year begins again," Harry asked, nervously.  
Dumbledore considered, again. "I don't see why not," he said, and Harry sighed inwardly. "Now that our Ministry troubles are at an end, I think that your defense group might become rather popular."  
Dumbledore stopped. It was a second before Harry realized that they were at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. "The new password is "Brightest Star", Harry. Good night, Harry," Dumbledore said, and he left.  
Harry looked at Dumbledore's retreating back. Then, tiredly, he gave the Fat Lady the password and went up to bed.  
  
Craig sat in a tree, staring up at the stars. Hogwarts was so dark...he could see more stars here than he could back in America.  
He sat in silence and let the stars tell their stories: stories of pain, stories of joy, stories of defeat, and stories of victory. And hope. Always hope.  
Even now, the voices were nagging him. But stargazing had always made them a bit softer...and sometimes, he could even ignore them. Tonight was one of those nights.  
In fact, it was the first night since the destruction of the AWA that Craig had managed to ignore the voices. Some of his classmates had simply refused to stop talking his ears off.  
So Craig sat, and heard the stories of the stars. He saw the North Star, shining brightly as ever, and it seemed to be speaking to him, too. Sirius had never triggered a voice before, but now it was definitely speaking to him. The star pulsed as the voice talked and talked. It talked about Harry Potter.  
Craig nodded. He knew who Harry Potter was.  
The star twinkled in a smile. The voice seemed at happy that Harry was okay. It talked about pain and hardship, but also of the boy's worth.  
Craig would have to test that.  
Then he shut the voice off. It was still there, of course - even the nicest of them wouldn't go away when he told them to - but he stopped listening. Some of its words echoed in his head, though.  
Craig went back to his stargazing, though he still thought of the voices' words. Harry Potter...Whistler had once talked about a boy named Harry Potter. And Craig had met the boy, hadn't he? Briefly.  
He had done okay for himself, this Harry Potter. So far, anyway. He was a survivor. Craig chuckled. He'd not only survived, but he was still able to live...that was something.  
He was one of three things, Craig decided: incredibly strong, incredibly lucky, or incredibly stupid. Or perhaps some combination of the three.  
Craig felt the voices rise up. A few of them had something to say on the subject of Harry Potter. Craig chose, once again, not to listen. He wanted to formulate his own opinion on Harry Potter, not get someone else's.  
The branch was fairly comfortable. Craig sighed. If only life could be this simple all the time. No one else around to make the noise unbearable...a clear night...a comfortable tree...and a voice that didn't seem intent on making his life miserable. This was one of those moments that Craig lived for.  
As he waited for half-sleep to take him, Craig considered the fact that he would often be sleeping here. Comfortable, quiet, and secluded, and he was happy about it. No mistaking that.  
He was asleep.  
  
Angel and the gang stood silently in front of a large, abandoned house. It was definitely old, and it definitely hadn't been inhabited by humans in a long, long time.  
Wesley felt distraught over seeing his old house like this. "Home, sweet home," he said. "Our home, that is, at least for the next few weeks," he added.  
Angel walked up to the house and was about to step inside, when he was thrown backwards.  
"Ouch," he said, from the lying position he was put into. "Wes, you want to give me a hand with this?"  
Wesley, who was suppressing a chuckle, said, "I invite you into my home, Angel."  
Angel climbed to his feet again and led the others inside. The house was even larger on the inside then the out - it felt a bit like the Hyperion.  
"Nice digs," Whistler said. "I'm exhausted - I think I'll hit the sack."  
They all drifted slowly off to sleep. First Fred, then Gunn, Wesley, and Lorne all went up to claim sleeping space in the large house. Only Angel was left down in the entrance hall, staring out at the street.  
Only Angel could see the approach of the Death Eaters.  
  
Ten chapters! Kick ass...bit of a cliffie, I know, but you'll survive. Angel and his friends might not, but...oops. Said too much. I'll just leave you to mull that over in the back of your head. R/R...Station! 


	11. The Eleventh Chapter

Few...Its taken me long enough to get onto this chapter. I just haven't had time...spirit week...pep band...and I'm vice president of my class...its all very stressful. And I've got another new story going now, too. Go check it out, but be warned. It's a bit more racy than this one. Anyway, I think its story time.  
  
Angel watched as the men in cloaks approached the house. He had a bad feeling about them; they looked like trouble.  
It didn't take long for Angel to discover that they were. The foremost blew the door off and began to enter the house.  
Not vampires, Angel thought. Otherwise, they couldn't enter.  
The noise had undoubtedly awoken his friends, so Angel decided to take on the lead man himself.  
He charged the man from the shadows and punched him in the back of the head. He spun around, hitting the wall and denting it, before collapsing to the floor as an unconscious heap.  
Angel had his game face on as Wesley, Gunn, Fred, Lorne, and Whistler came running.  
Two more of the eight Death Eaters had entered the house by then. The rest were quick to follow. When one of the Death Eaters noticed the unconscious one, he laughed.  
"You really are him, aren't you?" he asked in a thick British accent. "The vampire with a soul? No mortal could have taken out Rookwood so quickly. And I thought that this was going to be a pointless excursion."  
"Why the hell are you here?" Angel asked through his fangs. It was so much harder to talk like this.  
"We're here as a welcoming committee," the lead man said. "We're here to welcome your corpses to the local cemetery."  
He attacked, launching a spell at Angel. Angel ducked it, and leapt in close for a kick. Instantly, the others began a fight of there own. Wesley had the foresight to bring down some weaponry, and now tossed Gunn and Whistler swords.  
"They're charmed!" Wesley yelled over the sound of spells. "They can deflect most spells!"  
So the battle raged. It was fairly even; Angel would have taken out the Death Eaters in an instant if he hadn't had to duck every few seconds to avoid a spell. The rest of Angel's friends were having similar difficulties; they just couldn't get close enough.  
Finally, Angel managed to get a firm hold on one of the Death Eaters. Surrounding the man's head with his hands, Angel twisted, and the mans neck snapped with a sickening crack.  
The rest of the Death Eater's retreated, leaving Rookwood unconscious and the other man lying dead.  
Angel looked around at his friends. Wesley and Gunn were both bleeding from cuts inflicted by Reductor Curses; Whistler seemed untouched, but he was breathing heavily just the same; Lorne had been hit with a Jelly-Legs Jinx and was having a hard time standing; and Fred was unconscious, hit by a Stunner.  
"I hate England," Angel said.  
  
Buffy woke early the next morning. Her quarters were very comfortable - compared with her previous accommodations, they were beyond comfortable.  
She rose and walked to her closet, intent on dressing for the day. When she opened her wardrobe, though, she found and assortment of wizards robes.  
Buffy looked at the robes appraisingly. She'd never dressed like a wizard before. Deciding not to, she delved into her bag and soon came up with an outfit for the day.  
Exciting the room, Buffy discovered quickly that she wasn't the only one up and about. Faith was lounging on one side of the room with several of the new Slayers, and Xander was sitting in a corner, talking to Andrew. Buffy, nodding to Faith, walked over to Xander.  
"I don't suppose you could point me in the direction of the cafeteria?" she asked.  
Xander smiled. "No cafeteria," he said. Buffy's eyes filled with cold dread. Now Xander laughed. "Now that we're in England, they're called 'dining halls'".  
Buffy hit him, lightly. It hurt anyway, but not too much. "Ouch," Xander said, rubbing his arm. "That's still a bit tender. Not all of us heal so quick..."  
Buffy instantly regretted it. Though there was no way she could have known that her playful punch would, ultimately, remind Xander of the fight in which Anya had been killed, she still felt guilty about the sick look that passed like a shadow across Xander's face. It was gone quickly, but Buffy knew what the look meant. She'd seen it so many times...in her own mirror, some of those times.  
She patted his shoulder. "It's all right, Xander," she said. "She...she died like a hero."  
His eyes welled up, but he didn't cry. With a shuddering intake of breath, he pushed his feelings away and stood. "Why don't we go grab some crumpets?" he asked.  
Buffy smiled, but inwardly, she was still concerned about Xander. They exited the barracks and went back up to the castle. "You know, the whole crumpet thing is just a big stereotype, " Buffy said, conversationally.  
Xander grinned at her, but didn't say anything. Unable to figure out what, exactly, was causing the look, Buffy finally had to bite. "What?" she asked.  
Xander laughed openly. "You sounded a lot like Willow for a second there."  
I did? Buffy asked herself. "Well, I guess she's rubbing off on me."  
Xander's smile faded. "Who would have guessed..." he muttered.  
Again Buffy was puzzled. "Who would have guessed....what?"   
Xander looked at her, and he seemed serious. "That Willow is a gay witch, you're the leader of a super powerful army of Slayers, and I'm the guy along for the ride who recently had an eye poked out of existence."  
Buffy sighed. "Deal with it," she said. They laughed, turning a corner and entering the Hall at the same time.  
Both of them stopped laughing abruptly, their collective breath caught in their throats. The Great Hall was a magnificent display.  
They entered and Dumbledore waved them up to the highest table. It was mostly empty, though several adult wizards populated it.   
"Hello, Buffy, Xander," Dumbledore said with a wide grin. "Did you find your accommodations comfortable?"  
Both of them laughed. "I'd say there's a big 'yes' waiting for you in the wings," Xander said.  
Dumbledore shot him a puzzled look.  
Now Buffy was laughing almost uncontrollably. "He means 'yes', Professor."  
Dumbledore shook his head, smiling broadly. They ate. Both Buffy and Xander were delighted by the food - it was excellent.  
Finishing, Dumbledore stood. So did Buffy and Xander. "Well, now that we have eaten, would you like to tell me why it is, exactly, that I've brought you to my school?"  
Buffy could have hit herself. Before she could, Dumbledore cut in. "Perhaps this conversation should wait for a closed door. My office is this way..." and he led the two out.  
They walked in silence, none knowing what, exactly, to say in public, when the topic on everyone's mind was not meant for the public. Soon, they reached a gargoyle. Buffy and Xander looked confused, but Dumbledore seemed perfectly calm.  
"Sugarcane," he said, clearly, and the gargoyle removed itself, revealing an archway and stairs.  
Ignoring her surprise at the doorway, Buffy entered with Xander. Together, they sat down in front of Dumbledore's desk. He crossed the room quickly and sat, as well.  
Buffy sighed deeply. "There are a few things you have to understand before I can make my request," she said, and proceeded to relate to Dumbledore the old story of the Slayer.  
"Remarkable," Dumbledore said. "Our world does know of vampires, but we never heard about a single girl given power to kill them."  
"It gets better," Buffy said. She then went ahead and told Dumbledore her own story: her calling in LA, moving to Sunnydale, getting killed by the Master and subsequently resurrected by Xander, Angel, Faith, the Mayor, Glory, Dawn, Riley, the Initiative, Willow's problems with the magic, and finally the events of the past year.   
"In order to defeat the First, we changed the rules," she explained. "Willow is incredibly powerful; she used and ancient Slayer's Scythe to give every potential Slayer in the world the power. And now hundreds, perhaps thousands, of girls across the globe have all the abilities of Slayers."  
She halted for a moment. "We have no way, alone, of finding them."  
Dumbledore nodded. "And you wish for me to use the Locator to find your Slayers?"  
"That was what I had hoped," Buffy said. She crossed her toes.  
Dumbledore seemed pensive for a moment. He examined Buffy closely, then Xander. "I think perhaps I can help."  
Buffy uttered a sound that was halfway between a cheer and a sigh of relief. Then she apologized for shouting.  
"No problems," Dumbledore said. "Of course, adjusting the Locator to search for Slayers will take some time; but not too much. All things considered, I think that the Locator will be able to begin searching for Slayers by early September."  
Buffy almost cried. Even after seeing so many of the wonders of the wizarding world, she hadn't been sure that Dumbledore could help her. Now she was.  
"Thank you," she said.  
"You're most welcome. Now, if you would care for some lunch...." He trialed off.  
"Lunch?" Buffy asked, blankly. Then she saw a clock on the wall. They'd been in Dumbledore's office for nearly six hours.  
All of sudden, both Buffy and Xander discovered that they were starving. "Lunch would be great," Buffy said quickly.  
Dumbledore laughed, and lead the way out of his office.  
  
Ginny Weasley rested comfortably in her room. She was reading, as was per usual; though perhaps not as much as Hermione, Ginny had always enjoyed a good book.  
This particular novel she found to be quite entertaining. Some muggles entertained humorous notions about magic; Mr. Brooks, in particular, was very funny. The idea of magic as addictive...it was funny.  
That wasn't really the point and Ginny knew it. Power was the true addiction. But she didn't dwell on that; the book was simply too funny for her to be put off.  
Most unfortunately, she was. There was a knock at her door. She quickly considered feigning sleep, but discarded the idea just as quickly. "Come in," she said.  
It was Hermione. "Can I come in?" she asked.  
Ginny shrugged, putting her book aside. "Why not?"  
Hermione sat down next to Ginny on the bed. "Well, it might have something to do with the way you've been isolating yourself," she said.  
Ginny blushed, but decided to play dumb. "What are you talking about?"  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, Ginny, its so obvious that it hurts. You miss him."  
Ginny's face twitched slightly. She didn't need to be told who 'he' was - there was only one boy that she really missed at the moment.  
"So what if I do?" Ginny asked, a bit defensively. "You miss him too, don't you?"  
Hermione smiled. "I'd say that I miss Harry in quite a different way than you do."  
Ginny blushed again. Hermione's smile faded slightly. "That's not it, though, is it? I mean, that's not all that's bothering you, is it?"  
There was a long pause. Ginny contemplated telling Hermione about her....unique problem. Hermione was Ginny's best friend, though she was a year younger than the brainy girl.  
"No...I guess that I just miss Mum..." she said.  
Hermione nodded, and she hugged Ginny. Ginny smiled. "Thanks for being here, Hermione," she said.  
"My pleasure," Hermione responded, and they both smiled.  
  
Does that seem a bit rushed? Considering how long its taken, it shouldn't, but hey. I'm losing interest in this fic quickly, and I'm thinking of changing the direction a bit. You know, go more for a swords and sorcery war fic than a classic Buffy or HP deal. What do you think? Leave me your ideas on the Review space, or email me at vyo476@yahoo.com. Please. 


	12. The Twelfth Chapter

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. It think there were five of you. Thanks especially go out to Zaeria. You're input is always welcome. Anyway, its by the time your reading this...well, lets not dwell on that. Instead, lets dwell on the chapter you're about to read. Yay!  
  
A week later, Dumbledore sat in a room, alone. He sat in this room only twice each year; once at the beginning of summer, once at the end. It was neither time; indeed, there were still two weeks of summer left.  
Dumbledore looked at the box in front of him. It was fairly non-descript. Although large, the box seemed unremarkable, with its dull gray color and lack on design. From looking at it, one could never tell what it could do.  
It was one of the most powerful magical objects ever to have existed.  
The Box of Rixx, rumored to have been created by a brilliant centaur, was what Dumbledore used to seek out the students that attended his school each year. He disdained its use, though, for it warped the mind of the user ever so slightly. He supposed that it was the box's fault, not his own, that he was always a bit...loopy...at the opening day feast. Using it made him feel strange.  
He therefore avoided its use as much as possible. The sense of helplessness he felt after the effects wore off was humiliating, as was the knowledge that he couldn't adequately defend himself in that state.  
He stared for a long time, or what seemed like a long time. Time, itself, was distorted near the Box, because its power was so great that it disturbed the continuum of space, time, and magic in its surrounding area. He reached out and touched it and shuddered again. His hand had warped back in on itself as he'd touched the Box.  
Gritting his teeth, Dumbledore decided to just get it over with. He stepped up to the Box, and with all his strength, pressed forward.  
After a moment when it seemed as though he could not push through the outer layer of the Box, it gave way, gelatinously moving to accommodate his hand. Slowly, he worked the rest of his body through until he was in darkness.  
His mind had been empty till then; it was a requirement for entering the Box. Now, however, his mind exploded with every thought on the planet. It didn't hurt, and it didn't overwhelm him; but it didn't make any sense, either.  
The Box calmed down immediately. It spoke to him, in its strange, unreal language. "You have come to search again, Albus? Why so early?"  
Dumbledore's thoughts supplied the answer before he could have even considered using his mouth. He was searching for a new type now, magical in a different way.  
"Slayers..." the Box said. It read his thoughts and began to search. Dumbledore shuddered.  
He saw the girls as the Box picked them out, zeroing in only to fly away in an instant to the next one. Though he only could see their faces for an instant, Dumbledore could remember each and every face, name, and address.  
The search took nearly three hours.  
Eventually, the Box stopped bombarding him. "That's all of them. Are you all right, Albus? You seem tired."  
Dumbledore shook his head. The Box needn't ask questions. It could simply read the answer out of his mind, and it never bothered to wait for him reply, anyway.  
"Yes," the Box said. "Yes, I see...well, I'm sure Harry will be fine, Albus."  
Dumbledore nodded and exited the Box before it could say any more. He didn't quite make it in time, because an echo lasted in his mind.  
"Just have confidence..."  
  
Buffy surveyed the lawn. The Slayers were in groups, sparring with each other with a variety of weapons. Kennedy and Willow were taking turns to throw things at each other, with magic and with muscle, and to block those things. Rona and Shannon were doing push ups with five hundred pound sacks on their backs. Several Slayers were practicing swordplay.  
Buffy nodded. They were in good shape. All of the Slayers were in top physical condition - indeed, she'd never felt so good before.  
Faith walked up to her. "You wanna have a go?" she asked.  
Buffy started, alarmed. She hadn't fought Faith since the incident three and a half years ago - and it had been drag out then too.  
She was unsure, but Faith was smiling. "Come on," she said, under her breath. "Let's give these kiddies something to stare at."  
Buffy's smile, when it came, was slow and a bit unsure. "Okay..." she said. She wondered if it was a bad idea.  
The two Slayers squared off, facing each other from a fighting stance. Realizing what was going on, several of the Slayers stopped what they were doing to watch. Xander and Willow backed quickly away, having had experience with Faith/Buffy fights and not wanting to get in the way.  
Buffy and Faith circled, looking for openings. They stared each other down, and Buffy suddenly wondered how much she really wanted to hit Faith.  
"Shall I do the honors?" Buffy asked, but she sounded a bit unconvincing.  
"Be my guess, B," Faith replied, grinning widely.  
Buffy struck, a quick right hand aimed to incapacitate Faith. Faith parried with her forearm and sought to uppercut Buffy. Buffy, too, parried, grabbing Faith's wrist and swinging her in a circle. She landed hard on the ground.   
The Slayers watched as Faith got quickly to her feet. Many of them had felt a strange urge to cheer, as thought there really were separate sides at work. Willow stirred, feeling Buffy's emotions.  
Not allowing Buffy the upper hand again, Faith lunged in quickly with a left hook that connected, sending Buffy tumbling back. Faith would have had Buffy pinned if not for a deft movement from the blonde Slayer. Buffy lashed out with her feet, catching Faith and throwing her.  
Buffy leapt back to her feet.  
Buffy took the offensive, swinging a kick towards Faith's head that Faith ducked under. Faith grabbed Buffy and sought to roll the smaller girl, but Buffy used the roll to lash out with her feet again. This time, a foot connected with Faith's midsection, knocking the wind out of her.  
Buffy was up in an instant and back on the offensive. She struck a the winded Faith, hitting her full on in the face. Faith reeled, and Buffy delivered an enormous kick.  
Only Faith wasn't there anymore.  
Knowing Buffy's signature move all too well, Faith had ducked under it. She now came up sharply, lifting Buffy's leg from the ground. Buffy's center of gravity rolled across her body, and her weight lost its even distribution. She fell backwards, Faith applying pressure. If Buffy hadn't been so strong, the leg would have snapped like a twig.  
Buffy twisted on the ground, kicking Faith. Faith lost her grip on Buffy's leg, and Buffy jumped up. They both hit there fighters poses, fire in their eyes.  
Then, almost in synchronization, they began to laugh.  
  
Willow breathed a small sigh of relief. Leave it to Slayers, she thought, to have to sort out their errant feelings with violence.  
She had felt Buffy's surge of emotion at fighting Faith. She'd felt Faith, too, to some extent, but what overwhelmed her was Buffy.  
The emotion she had received can best be described as 'confusion'.  
Buffy was unsure of Faith; and Faith was unsure of herself. Neither harbored any liking for the other, but somehow, they'd ended up trusting each other.  
And neither had even noticed it.  
Willow grinned widely as the rest of Slayers joined in laughing with Faith and Buffy. Soon, they were all back to their sparring.  
Willow walked up to Buffy, who was standing apart, smiling. "Some work out," Willow said.  
Buffy grinned again. "Yeah, some work out," she agreed.  
"More for your mind than your body, I'm thinking," Willow said.  
Buffy shook her head. "I never realized that I...trusted...Faith," she said. "The concept of trusting her has been so natural for the last few months. I had to, so I did," she shook her head again, emphatically. "But fighting her again...actually fighting her...it brought all of the old memories back. I suppose that I realized what Faith really means to me...to us...just now."  
Willow just smiled.  
  
Craig sat in his tree, watching from a distance. The two Slayers were good. Perhaps they weren't as good as him, but they obviously had skill.  
He smiled. Fighting one of them would be fun.  
He relaxed back into his branch. He'd been watching the Slayers train for nearly a week now. He knew many of their exercises by heart. There were a few that were unfamiliar to him, but he could guess most of their meanings quickly.  
He'd been raised to fight, after all.  
He contemplated asking Dumbledore for permission to train with the Slayers. Then he thought better of it. He would enjoy watching more.  
As far as he knew, none of the Slayers knew of his presence; he wanted to keep it that way. It was so much better to observe them from a distance. After all, there was a good chance that they would be killed in combat, and he didn't want to get too friendly.  
Friends made lousy voices.  
They were there, too, the voices. They never left, which you already know, but he had been ignoring them completely during the fight. The two Slayers were mesmerizing. He'd been able to ignore the voices completely for the first time in...gosh, how long had it been since that had happened?  
Craig shook his head. Just then, he noticed the boy walking down from the castle. Harry. Harry Potter.  
The one and only.  
Once again, the voices swelled. This boy invoked a large response from the voices. So much so that Craig had decided to avoid the Boy Who Lived. They would meet, eventually; that was a given. But for now, avoiding him was quieter.  
Craig loved quiet more than anything else. However, his concept of quiet isn't the same as our own.  
You'll get that later.  
Seeing that Harry was delivering a message, Craig deduced, quickly, that it was from Dumbledore. Craig hadn't spoken much to the old man since his arrival at Hogwarts; indeed, Craig hadn't spoken much to anyone since his arrival at Hogwarts.  
Anyone living, anyway.  
Dumbledore hadn't ever sent a runner to Buffy, though, so Craig decided that it must be something important. As the Slayers walked up to the castle, Craig followed, keeping his distance and maintaining his anonymity.   
He entered the castle about a minute after the larger group did. They left a scent trail that might just as well have been a bunch of flashing neon signs - so many teenage girls equals a lot of perfume and deodorant. They had gone in the Great Hall. Craig came up to the door, and pushed it open just enough to see who was inside.  
There was one large table set up in the middle of the room. Dumbledore sat at the head of it, with Harry sitting down at his right. Buffy sat at this left, with all the other Slayers taking up seats along the table.  
Dumbledore had realized that Craig was there the second the door had opened. Craig was fairly sure that no one else had noticed, so he was content to melt away into the shadows at the corner of the Hall. If there was anything Dumbledore needed him to hear, he would hear it. And if Dumbledore wanted him gone - unlikely - than he would leave.  
Craig settled back and waited for the meeting to begin.  
  
Harry sat down where Dumbledore had gestured. When he had told the professor that he was unable to find Craig, as usual, the older man had simply smiled and told Harry that it was okay.  
Strange.  
Seeing that everyone was seated, Dumbledore began. "Now that you're all here, I'd like to begin," he said. "Yesterday, I used the Hogwarts location device, the Box of Rixx, to search for Slayers. I have the results here." He held up a sheet of parchment.  
Buffy leaned forward. This was the reason that she had come to England...Buffy felt that side of her that made her do her duty swell up.  
"It's a rather extensive list," Dumbledore went on. "It details the name and location of every newly risen Slayer on the planet. Added up, I believe it comes to a round five hundred names."  
There was a series of small gasps from around the table. Five hundred...Harry's mind wandered away.  
"To my surprise, I found that several Hogwarts students are on the list," Dumbledore said. "I believe it would be best if we started with them..."  
At this, Harry leaned forward. A sneaking suspicion had entered the back of his mind...something about the way the Slayers were...something familiar.  
"There are three Slayers currently attending Hogwarts," Dumbledore said. He was carefully avoiding Harry's eyes, a fact that Harry noted briefly. "The first is Susan Bones, a Ravenclaw girl. I believe that Susan will not be a difficult case...she is used to having her world turned on its head..." and he explained about the murder of the Bones family.  
Buffy wanted to be sick. This world was so full of orphans...but now they'd get a chance to fight back.  
"The second is Emily Doyle, a Hufflepuff fifth year," Dumbledore continued. "Emily is a fairly moderate girl...raised by her wizard parents...marked down for Hogwarts from a young age...not much has happened in her life that she would find strange or alarming. She might be more difficult."  
Dumbledore paused. He obviously didn't want to say what was coming. He glanced quickly at Harry, and Harry knew. It was like a light bulb going on in his head.  
"Ginny," he said. "My girlfriend...is a Slayer."  
  
"Talk!" Angel roared. He lifted Rookwood's face out of the water. "This isn't nearly as pleasant for you as it may seem, but I'm sure I could get used to it. Now you're either going to tell me what I want to know, or you're going to take another little swim."  
The Death Eater was soaking and freezing cold, but he didn't say anything. He'd been tortured by worse things than a vampire with a soul.  
"I won't tell you anything, vampire," he muttered under his breath.  
Angel was frustrated. It had been nearly two days since the attack on Wesley's home. Rookwood had woken up an hour or so after the fight had ended and promptly sealed his mouth shut. Angel had been hard pressed to get him to open it long enough to eat.  
Now, the Death Eater wouldn't even tell Angel why it was that the vampire had been attacked.  
"Who sent you?" Angel asked.  
"Don't you know?" Rookwood replied. He sneered.  
"Would I be asking...aw, screw it," Angel said. He punched Rookwood in the jaw, sending the wizard's head sharply back.  
When he regained some semblance of focus, Rookwood managed to say, "Do you enjoy torturing an unarmed man?"  
Angel grinned at him. It was not a pleasant smile. "I used to," he admitted. "Not so much anymore, though. Tell you what," he continued, on sudden inspiration, "I'll let you have your little wand back, and we'll have ourselves a fair fight. If you win, then...well, you win, and you get to leave. If I win...you tell me what I want to know. Get it?"  
Rookwood considered a moment. He had no intention of ever telling the vampire anything, but he did want his wand back. In the end, he decided against it, though. He spat in Angel's face.  
"No deal, freak," he said.  
Angel turned to go, but stopped. "Freak?" he asked.  
"Yes, freak," Rookwood went on. "You're a paradox; a vampire who doesn't want to kill. You're a freak!"  
"You've met many vampires?" Angel asked, without turning to look at Rookwood.  
"Ahh, yes," Rookwood said, happily. "Our army is comprised of many of the worst vampires..." he trailed off.  
Angel turned to him and smiled. "Thanks," he said. He ignored Rookwood's furious shouting and cursing as he ascended the stairs. He shut the door at the top, blocking out the man's yelling.  
"Did you get anything out of him?" Wesley asked, upon arriving back in the main hall. Everyone was assembled there, waiting for Angel's word.  
"A little," Angel said. "He mentioned an army of vampires. I'm thinking that wherever there's a ton of demonic activity...there's the sponsor of the attack last night."  
Wesley was staring off into space. "What?" Angel asked.  
"This man..." Wesley began, "did you happen to notice a tattoo on his arm?"  
Angel shrugged. "Yeah," he said. "A skull and a snake. Why?"  
Wesley snapped his fingers. "I knew it!" he exclaimed. "I should have seen it earlier, of course, but...never mind that. This man is a Death Eater. A minion of Voldemort."  
Everyone took a moment to absorb this news. "Then Voldemort has an army of vampires..." Fred said.  
"We need to find Buffy," Angel said. "She needs to hear this."  
"She'll be at Hogwarts, with any luck," Wesley said. "That was her destination. We can only hope that she is there by now."  
"Then I guess that we need to go to Hogwarts," Angel said.  
  
What did you all think? This chappie came out better than I could have expected. And fast, too - yet somehow, it doesn't feel nearly as rushed as the last one. That new direction is definitely in the works. So, as always, leave me your questions, comments, criticisms, and what have you. I love you all, and thanks for your continued support of me and my writing. Peace out, kids. 


	13. The Thirteenth Chapter

Chapter thirteen! I was really quite flattered by all of your reviews. I know that this one is short, but it's a bridge. Besides, I'm attempting to defeat my superstition regarding the number thirteen. Hee, hee. Story time, peoples.  
  
Harry felt vaguely like fainting. Ginny...was a Slayer? A Slayer?  
She fit the description, he supposed. Tough, strong willed...beautiful, judging by the looks of the assembled Slayers.  
He looked around the table, eventually focusing on Dumbledore. "It is Ginny, isn't it, sir?" he asked, in a more deferential tone than his previous outburst.  
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Harry, it is Ginny. She is the final Slayer from Hogwarts."  
Buffy nodded, and looked at Harry. "Can you tell us a little bit about her?"  
Harry looked dazed for a second, but swallowed his amazement. "Err...sure, I suppose...well, she's about so high, red hair, brown eyes..." he trailed off. This, obviously, wasn't what Buffy wanted to know. "Right, then...she's very strong willed. Also very tough. Through it all, though, she's the sweetest...well, I mean to say, she's quite nice..."  
Buffy nodded. The kid was in a state of mild shock. Now wasn't the best time to be inquiring about the source of that shock. "What about the other Slayers? The ones who don't attend Hogwarts?"  
Dumbledore fussed briefly with the parchment, read from it briefly, and sighed. "They are, I'm afraid, from all corners of the Earth. And we can't easily send owls, as we usually do with students, because we simply don't have enough owls with the necessary range for these journeys. I'm afraid that the people will have to be contacted by other people."  
Buffy sat back and let this sink in. Five hundred...it was nearly inconceivable that a group of thirty Slayers could ever manage to get in touch, personally, with that many people. She began to map out her plans for it, and immediately realized that there was no way she could do it all here.  
She nodded slowly, looking up from the table at Dumbledore. "Thank you for your help, sir," she said. "I suppose that you'd like us out of your hair now..."  
Dumbledore stood immediately. "I want no such thing, Buffy," he said. "You and your Slayers are welcome here as long as you like. After receiving this list last night, I began to think. You will need a place to train all of these new Slayers, and we desperately need an army. Evidence has shown that Lord Voldemort has begun to gather up and army of his own," he looked at Harry, who had shuddered at the word 'army'. "If we are to combat this, we will need all the help we can get, and then some, too.  
"What I am saying is...once our wartime additions are done, would you like to set up a Slayer training camp here at Hogwarts?"  
Buffy nearly fell back out of her chair. She looked around inquiringly at her friends. Xander seemed lost in thought - again, Willow was nodding fervently, Faith was grinning slowly and nodding, and Giles consented as well by not expressing dissent.  
"We'll accept your offer," Buffy said.  
Dumbledore grinned. "That would be most kind...now, if you'll follow me, we have a lot to discuss if this training camp idea is to become a reality."  
As they walked out of the Hall, Dumbledore looked to a corner of the room and said, distinctly, "Quiet as a mouse...I can see why they picked you," and he was gone.  
Harry stood, too. He was incredibly uncomfortable at this table of Slayers. Dumbledore was his only link to them, and with Dumbledore gone, he felt a bit lost and more than a bit out of place.  
"Well," he muttered. "It was nice seeing you all..."  
Harry moved to leave, but one of them stopped him. "Hey, you..." she said. Harry wasn't aware of her name, but her red hair reminded him faintly of Ginny. "You're girlfriend is a Slayer?"  
Harry, deciding that this was an olive branch of sorts, answered the question. "Yes," he said. "Ginny...we haven't been together long."  
One of the adults muttered, under his breath, "Those always work out so well..."  
Harry was a bit alarmed. He didn't know what, exactly, would change in Ginny with the coming of the whole Slayer thing, but something in the man's tone unnerved him. "What's that about?" he asked.  
A voice came from the corner. "Don't worry about it, kid," it said. "Your girlfriend will be fine. They're talking about other Slayer's and their really tragic love lives."  
Craig stepped from the shadows. He was pleased to see that he had spooked everyone assembled. "Didn't notice me?" he asked.  
Faith stepped up to him. "No, we didn't," she said. "And that makes me suspicious."  
Craig looked her up and down once, considering. "Faith, right?" he asked. "Its good to see you so...good, I guess is the appropriate word. After all that evil, its really inspiring to see you fighting for the good guys."  
Faith suddenly took on an expression that resembled greatly a deer in the headlights. She withdrew slightly, asking, "Who are you?"  
"My name is Craig," said he. "I guess that I live here now. Anyways, I think I'll be going now. I've seen the meeting, and I'm sure that's what Dumbledore wanted me here for. I'll see you all later. You won't see me."  
And he left.  
The Hall was quite silent for a moment as everyone took in the strangeness of the young man who had just departed. Finally, Xander piped in with a joke. "Anyone else think that the 'wierdo of the year' award was just clinched?"  
"Yeah," Willow said, faintly. She obviously wasn't paying any attention whatsoever to Xander.  
"What is it, Willow?" asked Giles.  
"That boy," she said. "He's different. He has magic...black magic...all about him."  
"I knew I should have taken him down," Faith muttered.  
"There's no need," Harry broke in. The assemblage turned, almost as one, to stare at him. "Dumbledore trusts him."  
Harry left.  
"Dumbledore trusts him?" Xander asked, speculatively. "And that settles it?"  
"Looks like scar boy is suffering from hero worship," Faith said.  
"You'll find that many at Hogwarts suffer from 'hero worship'," said a curt voice.  
They turned. A woman in wizards robes had just entered the Hall.   
"My name is Minerva McGonagal," the woman told them. "Though, after hearing that, I believe that I would prefer Professor better."  
  
Was that short? Yes. Did it suck? My ego is keeping me from answering that particular question. Anyway, feedback! Feedback! And happy birthday... 


	14. The Fourteenth Chapter

Last chapter sucked. Okay, I get that. You don't need to shower me with praise for me to understand that fact. Really, though, all you people are too kind. Some of the things you write about me are going to go to my head, and it's big enough as is. Rather than explore my ego, though...story!  
  
Angel hated his unlife at the moment. It had been Wesley's idea to summon a wizards bus; so it was Wesley's neck that Angel was eyeing.  
The Knight Bus jerked slightly as it came to a halt. "'Orry bout that!" the conductor's voice came. "Bit bumpy in 'ese 'arts. Mrs. Engels, we've arrived at the Danbury Mint."  
Angel shook his head. They'd been all over Britain in the last half hour. It was quite amazing - quite sickening, too - to see all of the country flashing past.  
"Wesley..." he said, through gritted teeth, as the bus sped up again.  
Wesley, for his part, seemed quite unaffected by the bus. "I think that our stop is next," he said, looking around at his friends. "Only a little ways more."  
"Oh..." Fred moaned. "I barely had time to get over that curse from the other night...now this..."  
Gunn looked at her wryly. "Don't complain," he said. "I can still taste the donut I had for breakfast this morning."  
"Donuts..." Whistler said. "Don't mention food, you'll make me hurl."  
The Knight Bus jerked enormously and came to a stop. "Village 'o Hogsmeade!" shouted the conductor.  
Slowly and painfully, Angel and the others piled out of the bus. Their luggage was already on the curb.  
"Good to see you again, Stan," Wesley said in parting.  
"Yeah, an' you, too!" the conductor replied, and, shutting the doors, the Knight Bus departed with a tremendous "BANG!" that made the street shudder.  
Wesley took a deep breath and smiled. "Hogsmeade!" he said happily. "I haven't been here in years. Since I was in the Order, in fact. Oh, my, it hasn't changed at all!"  
And he rushed away, his bag over his shoulder, and the rest of the Angel Investigations staff following slowly behind.  
"How could he stand the Bus Ride from Hell?" Lorne asked.  
"Experience," Angel replied.  
Regaining some form of bodily composure, Angel, Fred, Gunn, Whistler, and Lorne followed Wesley towards town.  
Wesley felt compelled to give each of them a tour, though it wasn't entirely necessary. As it turned out, Whistler had actually been present for the founding of Hogsmeade way back when.  
"I've been around a long time," he explained, as Wesley continued talking about the post office and the Shrieking Shack.  
Eventually, they reached the city gates and the path that lead to Hogwarts. Wesley, sure footed, started immediately up the path, but Angel stopped. "Don't you think that we should have a plan first?"  
"Why ever would we need a plan to go to school?" Wesley replied.   
  
Buffy and Faith lead the Slayers across the grounds. It was getting dark - time for a patrol of the grounds, especially near the forest.  
So far, they had only encountered two vampires near the forest. But it was full to the brimming with demons, and they always had to be on the alert.  
As the Slayers crept through the underbrush, they felt the approach of something powerful.  
Angel stopped again, feeling the presence of an enormous power close by. Whistler had stopped to, and said, quavering, "Oh, shit."  
A microsecond later, all hell broke loose.  
  
Craig had been playing his little game of hide and seek with the Slayers when he staggered slightly, as though stricken. He felt something enormously powerful drawing nearer. His first thought was of vampires; but no vampire had ever made so big an impression on him before.  
As he watched, the Slayers crept slowly, stealthily, through the brush. The small group of people approaching the castle had halted. Craig was suddenly terrified. He felt the emotions flood him, but years of practice blocked them out and reasserted his consciousness.  
The spiders leapt from the shadows of the forest, springing to attack. The fight was begun before anyone realized what was happening. The spiders were in a frenzy; it was not a coordinated attack.  
Bounding forward, Craig sought to join the fray, even as the Potter boy, who had been out practicing Quidditch, dove to aid as well.  
  
Harry watched as Craig melted into existence from what had appeared to be a shady section of a big tree. The boy moved with incredible speed towards the fight. Harry, too, was hastening to join the battle, which already looked bad.  
The Slayers were a match in strength to the spiders under normal circumstances; but now, the spiders were in a blood frenzy, and their strength seemed double. Cool heads and good leadership was what was keeping the Slayers alive.  
"Shannon! Shannon, watch out!" Buffy called, fending off a spider with the Slayer's Scythe. She jumped to the aid of the young Slayer, who was being cut by the pincers of a humongous spider.  
Faith, with a short sword, was keeping several of the spiders off Giles and the other civilians. She thrust quickly into an attacker, gutting it, and using the same motion to attack another spider, sent it hissing backwards. The spider didn't even take the time to regroup and get its bearings. It simply attacked again, vicious in its blood lust.  
Angel had seen the danger before anyone else and had been slightly more prepared for the attack. He'd managed to put himself between the spiders and his friends, anyway. Wesley's good mood had vanished in an instant when he had seen the spiders, and he had pulled from his bad several small hand pistols. He tossed one to Gunn and began firing immediately.  
"Hey, I want a gun!" Fred said.  
"Actually, hun, I think it might be a good time for us to skedaddle," Lorne said, looking a bit frightened. He wasn't a coward, but he knew that giant killer spiders were a bit out of his league physically. Still, he drew a short sword out a pack and stood ready to defend himself.  
Whistler, for his part, was trying to do some good. He couldn't be killed by the spiders, of course; but he couldn't seem to kill them very effectively, either.  
"Robin! Robin, get back!" Faith yelled out of the throng. A spider flew through the air, slashing Wood across the chest. Wood fell.  
"Robin!" Faith yelled. She slashed her way quickly to his side, skewering the spider that had attacked him. The thing shrieked in agony as it died.  
"Robin!" Faith said, bending over him and allowing Kennedy to cover her. "Are you okay?" She asked.  
"I think..." Wood began. "I think its poisonous..." he trailed off, blinking rapidly.  
"We need to get him out of here!" Faith yelled.  
Buffy caught a leaping spider with the blade of the Scythe, using its weight to slash it in half as it fell back to earth. "Go! We can cover you!"  
"I can't leave!" Faith said, relieving Kennedy.  
Upon hearing this, Fred and Whistler dashed forward, grabbing Wood and dragging him from the fight.  
They were almost home free when a spider appeared in front of them. It snarled deeply at them, and prepared to spring. Fred screamed, and Faith, agonizingly, realized that she was too far away. The spider leapt...  
And was intercepted mid flight by Craig. Boy and spider landed ten feet away. Both sprang immediately up. The spider lunged in quickly, but Craig was ready. With a deft movement that was too fast for the human eye to see, he seized one of the spiders pincers and flung the spider away, keeping his grip on the pincer. It ripped away from the spider, causing it to utter a horrific cry. It hit the ground fifty feet from Craig and didn't move.  
The boy whirled back towards Fred, who was frozen in shock. Craig's face, usually passive, was alight with fire. "Go!" He yelled. As Craig dived back into the fray, Fred and Whistler dragged Wood away.  
"That's my boy," Whistler muttered.  
Faith nodded to Craig as he fought his way towards her. "That was impressive," she conceded.  
"Glad you didn't beat me up?" Craig asked. He was still carrying the sharp, severed pincer. He flung it mightily at the nearest spider. It struck and drove deeply into the arachnid's skull, killing it instantly.  
"Yeah," Faith said, redirecting her energy back to the attack.  
Harry, who had left his broom back amongst the trees, had joined the battle as well. His fighting skills weren't as honed as the those of the Slayers, but his Stunners and Full-Body Binds were still effective enough.  
The fight was quickly turning in favor of the Slayers. Buffy rallied them to her and began a sweep, pushing the spiders back into the forest. Before they reached it, most of the remaining spiders broke and fled, still in a partial frenzy.  
Buffy looked up from the bloodied scythe to see Angel.  
"Hello, Buffy," he said. "How've you been?"  
  
Dumbledore met the Slayers in the Hospital Wing, which was much larger now than Harry remembered it. They were expecting more casualties this year, he realized, and his stomach turned over.  
"Are you all okay?" Dumbledore asked, as he entered the room. He noted quickly the presences of Craig and Harry in the room.  
"We had a few injuries," Buffy said. "Nothing too serious. Wood's going to be off his feet for a few days, but he'll be okay. We did pretty good." The last was said rather more viciously than Buffy had intended.  
Dumbledore nodded. "Perhaps, if you, and Mr. Giles would come this way, you can explain to me what, exactly happened."  
Buffy nodded, and with Giles, moved towards the exit. The three were about to leave when Dumbledore stopped. He turned slowly and seemed to sniff slightly at the air.   
"Why is there a vampire in the hospital wing?" he asked.  
Buffy kicked herself mentally. "Professor Dumbledore, this is Angel," she said, by way of introduction. "He's a vampire, but he has a soul, too."  
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. This girl was so full of surprises...."A pleasure to meet you, then," he said.  
"The pleasure is all mine," Angel said. Dumbledore noted the look he sent Buffy. They seemed to be communicating simply by looking at each other.  
"Perhaps you would like to come as well, and...my lord...Wesley!" he exclaimed. "I had heard that you were around again, too. Well, by all means, the two of you should accompany us as well."  
They departed, heading for Dumbledore's office.  
Slowly, the Slayers filed out, wandering away. The fight had been intense, but they'd eaten intense for breakfast for months. Snippets of their conversations that could be heard might have contained challenges to chess matches and references to the state of one's hair. The talk was light.  
Craig left too, thought Harry did not know the young man's destination. Harry watched him go, and eventually left as well. His mind was made up.  
He strode down the corridor until he stood before the entrance to Dumbledore's office. There he sat and began to wait.  
  
"They just attacked? Without warning or provocation of any kind?" Dumbledore asked.  
"They didn't just attack," Buffy said. "They were agitated beyond anything I've ever seen."  
"It wasn't a planned attack," Angel contributed. "They were too thinly spread. I think that they went into a rage and we were unlucky enough to get in the way."  
Dumbledore looked pensive for a moment. "It takes quite a bit to enrage one of those spiders," he said. "Hagrid has assured me that, though dangerous, they do not get truly angry with ease."  
Wesley nodded too. "Something large must be out there, then. Something that can make a hoard of spiders feel like tearing apart whatever they come across."  
Giles rose from his chair, feeling discontent. "But what?" he asked.  
"There is no way for us to know that now," Dumbledore said. "For now, I think that it would be in everyone's best interest to get some rest."  
They rose and began to leave. Giles, Wesley, and Angel left first, discussing quarters for the new arrivals. Buffy left a moment later, muttering something about how hungry she was.  
Dumbledore sat in the empty office for a moment, then said, "You can come in."  
Harry entered. "How did you...?"  
"I just did," Dumbledore said, smiling. "Is there something I can do for you?"  
"Yes," Harry said. "Craig...I'd like to know...more about him."  
Dumbledore stared at Harry for a moment. "Then why don't you ask him?" he asked, seriously.  
Harry fidgeted a bit. He felt strange, standing here before Dumbledore. "He makes me feel strange," Harry tried to explain. "I just don't understand him enough to engage him in conversation."  
Again, Dumbledore took a long time to pause. When he finally spoke, it was very quietly. "What would you like to know?"  
Harry considered. There was a lot that was strange about the boy. "Why is he so strange?"  
"Why are you so strange?" Dumbledore asked. "Because of a series of events that were entirely not your fault. Craig is in a similar position, though the events contributing to his current disposition occurred at his birth.  
"We're not sure how, or why, but Craig was born with the ability to hear the voices of the dead."  
Harry reeled back. It shocked and sickened him immediately. Then a sense of pity overwhelmed him, as well. "His parents...?" Harry asked.  
"We don't know," Dumbledore replied. "He was found, as a baby, by a demon called Whistler, who raised the boy to fight for the cause of good. The voices in his head never go away, you see. They don't stop. If it weren't for his enormous mental discipline, Craig would have gone insane long ago. As it is, he is rather unbalanced sometimes."  
Harry considered for a moment. He would sort through this all later; for now he wanted to know more. "Where does his strength come from?" he asked.  
"Training," Dumbledore said, simply. "Craig spent a lot of time in a demon dimension to develop certain skills Whistler felt were necessary for his survival. As a result, Craig got a lot stronger."  
Harry nodded. It was enough. "Thank you, Professor."  
He turned to go, but Dumbledore stopped him. "Harry - Craig just suffered an enormous ordeal. All of his friends at the AWA were killed, but he can still hear them in his head. He doesn't want any friends, but I think he needs them. Good night, now."  
Harry left, trying and, ultimately, failing to sort through this barrage of information. He was in his bed in Gryffindor Tower before he even bothered to think about anything else. By then he was asleep. He dreamt of Ginny.  
  
Ginny dreamt of Harry. She could see him, slightly blurred, at the center of a room. He reached out to her. She reached out to him, smiling, because she wanted to feel him again after so long. Their hands met, and their fingers entwined.  
They drew closer, embracing tightly. They kissed passionately through it all. When the kiss was broken, Ginny said, without understanding why, "You're soul..."  
"I know," Harry responded. "I love you, Ginny."  
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Ron appeared and stabbed Harry.  
He turned to dust.  
  
Do you hate me for the cliffhangers? I just love writing them so much that I can't stop! But that also means that I can't stop writing. By the way, this chapter took me about two hours to write. Incredible, no? Anyway, I'm thinking that the next chapter is going to be even bigger than this, so don't expect it too soon. I have to balance the rest of my life with this, too, as I'm sure you can understand. Lots 'o love. 


	15. The Fifteenth Chapter

Ginny awoke from the same nightmare she'd been having since Harry's departure. She was bathed in her own sweat - again - and could feel were her thrashing had caused the sheets to rip - again. Damn, she thought. That's the fourth set this week. I'll have to have Mum... Her thought ended abruptly. Repressing the dangerous torrent of emotions that her thoughts nearly triggered, Ginny got out of bed and moved towards the shower. For a moment, Ginny was surprised to find that the shower was empty; then she realized that it was six in the morning and no one at 12 Grimauld Place was awake yet, besides herself. Ginny turned the water on quickly and, disrobing, jumped in. She sighed as the warm water washed over her skin. For a moment, Ginny simply stood and basked in the refreshing feeling the water gave her. She felt her fear of the dream slip away enough for her to analyze it. Her analysis drew a complete blank. Ginny was a smart girl...she knew what kind of creature turned to dusk when stabbed with a wooden object. Why, however, she kept seeing Harry as a vampire was still a complete mystery to her. After washing herself, Ginny turned the water off, got out, and dried off. Wrapping herself in her towel, she crossed the hall and entered her room once more. She was mildly shocked by the owl sitting on her bed. "Hedwig!" she cried, and bounded forward. Hedwig hooted softly in recognition and held out her leg. There were two letters attached. One was, upon inspection, from Harry. The other was her school letter. Ginny opened the letter from Harry first.  
  
Dear Ginny, How are you? Yes, I am aware of how clichŽ it is to open a letter like that, but I really do want to know how you are. I wish I was with you; at least then I could avoid clichŽ's easier...! Things here are...well...a bit spooky. I don't want to discourage you about school, but things are so different here now that the war is on. Look, I don't know how to put this. You should read your school letter. I'm sure Dumbledore mentioned something in it. I just don't know how to tell you. Just know that everything that's been happening to you will be explained there. I wish I could find the words, but I just can't. I love you. Harry  
  
Ginny put down the letter. It was shocking. It was devastating. It was elating. It caused Ginny to experience several different contradictory emotions all at once. Admittedly, she was a bit angry at Harry for not being the one to tell her, but the last two lines stuck in her head as well. After a moment of thought, Ginny ripped open her school letter, which was a bit larger than usual.  
  
Dear Miss Weasley, It has recently come to our attention that a very powerful magical spell has been activated. You may, or may not, have heard of the recent destruction of Sunnydale, CA, in the Untied States. The Hellmouth there was destroyed by a group of Vampire Slayers. They used the magic of an ancient scythe to give heightened powers to girls all over the globe, in order to aid in the fight against evil. You are one of these girls. You may have been experiencing larger amounts of physical strength, stamina, speed, and hand/eye coordination. These are all signs that you are a Slayer, a girl with the power to kill vampires. This year, at Hogwarts, a new Slayer training program is being offered for any interested. The leader of the Slayers, Buffy Summers, is currently at Hogwarts and is beginning to organize the program. The main goal of said program is to establish an army of Slayers to aid in the fight against Lord Voldemort. If you are interested, please contact us immediately. Participation in the Slayer training program will mean that you will be given a completely new schedule aside from your regular school one. Scheduling will be dealt with when you arrive at Hogwarts, as will living arrangements and such. Enclosed is your list of required books and supplies for fifth years. Bear in mind that no matter what your decision regarding your new powers is, you will always be welcome at Hogwarts.  
  
Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster  
  
Ginny read the letter once. Then she read it again. By the third time, she was simply seeing words and not comprehending their meaning. She wandered out of her room, lost without time. She still clutched the letter. At some point, a blurry figure - she couldn't tell who it was - took the letter from her hand and read it. "Ginny...? Ginny, what is this?" Hermione asked. "Read it," she said, her vision coming back into focus as reality reasserted itself. Hermione did so. She gasped. She looked from the letter, to Ginny, and back to the letter. "Ginny...I...well, we knew that something strange was going on, but this...." Hermione trailed off, lost for words. "Hey, everyone, Hogwarts letters are here!" announced Ron. He dropped his letter upon seeing the looks on the girls' faces. "What's wrong?" Ron asked, his mood changing in an instant. Hermione, wordlessly, handed him the letter. His eyes traced it several times, his facial expressions dancing between several versions of disbelief. The three stood looking at each other for a long moment, lost and confused. Hermione came out of it first. Shaking her head, she stepped into the center of their small circle. "So Ginny is a Slayer," Hermione said. "Are you going to do the program, Ginny?" Ginny was startled slightly. "I don't know," she admitted. Her voice sounded strange. Ron spoke up. "This whole thing seems a bit dodgy," he started. "Are we sure that the letter is really from Dumbledore? Couldn't it be an...imposter, or something?" Ginny shook her head. "Strange as it may seem, it does fit with what's been happening. And I got a letter from Harry, too...he didn't mention specifics, but it would hold with what Professor Dumbledore said." "Let's ask Lupin," suggested Hermione. Ginny considered. She liked and respected Lupin quite a bit, and with his experience with the Dark Arts, the idea seemed a good one. "Okay," she said. Lupin was, once again, indulging his new passion for cooking. Later on, the trio would find out that the burning mass of black gunk on the stove was a shepherds pie, but at the moment, they mostly ignored it. "Professor," Ginny began. "I have a problem...I need some help." Lupin looked away from his cooking and smiled. "Ask and I shall assist," he said, grinning with such force that Ginny was forced to smile back. Lupin took the letter from Ginny. As he read it, he turned grave. He nodded a bit near the end and handed it back to her. "That's a lot to think about," he said after a moment. "What it really comes down to is this: do you want to do it?" Ginny considered. Lupin, deciding that this was inadequate, cut in on her thoughts. "If it were me," he began, "I would do it. But that's just me. I would want to learn how to control my powers." "Like the werewolf thing?" Ginny asked. Lupin smiled. "Yes, something like that. My friends helped me control the wolf. This is something like that. Only you don't have a raging animal inside you." Ginny chuckled. "Why don't you go and do some packing?" Lupin suggested. "We're going to Diagon Alley tomorrow to get some of your school things, and I figured that we might stay at the Leaky Cauldron." "That would be nice, Professor," Ginny said, smiling. "And thanks for your help." "Any time," Lupin replied. "Run along, now. Dinner's in an hour." Ginny eyed the pan, and, covering up the look of slight disgust, rushed from the room. Lupin looked down into the pan and wondered what it was supposed to be. Ginny began to ascend the stairs, but stopped. She could pack later, and she had an odd urge. She jumped back down the stairs and rounded the corner. She passed quickly into the training room. It was open. Ginny plucked a sword off the wall. She held it in front of her, unsure. She'd never held a sword before; but even as she thought that it felt strange and uncomfortable, and was about to put it back and leave, she felt something odd. She felt a memory. It wasn't much. Just a quick remembrance, rather like daydreaming, and it was gone in a moment. But the flash of iron, and the feeling of power and calm assurance...it stayed with her. She could feel a sense of power that she had never felt before. It felt good. It felt really good. "I just got a letter from Dumbledore," said a voice. "I figured I might find you here." Ginny didn't turn. "Hello, Professor Moody." Moody walked into her peripheral vision. He, too, carried a sword. "I actually met a Slayer once," Moody said. "Damn girl was stronger than could be imagined. Of course, I had no idea what she was at the time." Ginny looked at Moody intensely. "I want to learn how to use this," she said. Moody nodded. "Okay," he said. They fought. As soon as Ginny got a feel for the blade, which didn't take very long at all, she was mastering Moody quickly. "You kids learn quick," Moody said, breathing heavily. They delved back into the fight, Moody giving Ginny occasional instructions and encouragement. They practiced for the rest of the day.  
  
Harry awoke from his dreams with a smile on his face. Ginny was a beautiful girl...but he wanted to see her in person...so badly...it was starting to hurt. The smile wavered. Harry got up and cast about the room for something to do. There wasn't anything in particular that he needed to do now; his homework was long finished. He was so bored these days that he had actually considered going to Dumbledore and requesting more work. His desperation for occupation was that great. Though he tried, repeatedly, to find Craig and talk with him, the American boy remained elusive. Harry desired Craig's company mostly on the basis of their proximity of age. Though he wasn't sure, Harry could have guessed that Craig was perhaps a year older than himself. Harry dressed quickly and exited his room, moving down through the deserted Common Room, and eventually to the Great Hall. The Hall was empty; he was ten minutes early, and breakfast wouldn't be up for another fifteen. Harry cursed. His feeling of uslessness was compounding itself by the second, seemingly. Why was it, that no matter where he was, he never seemed to be involved in what was happening in the world? At Privet Drive, he'd been completely out of the loop. Now he was at Hogwarts, and he was in the loop, but it was taunting him. He found that he disliked loops very much. "A bit restless, Harry?" said Dumbledore, who had entered the hall unnoticed by Harry. "Only a bit," Harry said, covering up his frustration. Dumbledore considered Harry. "Our Slayer friends will probably be here shortly. I wonder if you would be able to train with them for a while...?" Harry brightened up a bit. "I think that I would like that, sir," he said. Buffy and Angel entered then. They were already talking. "You know that I can't stay here long," Angel was saying. "Wolfram and Hart will only run itself for so long." "I know," Buffy said. "In fact, I need you there. I'm going to need serious resources to get in touch with all these Slayers across the globe. You can help me from Wolfram and Hart." Angel nodded. "I came to warn you about something, though." Buffy halted, short of the staff table where she had been dining since arriving at the wizards school. "What?" she asked, troubled. Dumbledore, seeing the concerned expressions of both, descended to see what was wrong. "This man attacked us on our way in," Angel explained, pulling out a picture of Rookwood. "He wasn't alone, either. He had a bunch of his friends with him, and they were all wizards. Lord Voldemort is building an army - an army of vampires." Buffy managed a grin. "Army of vampires - change the channel, we've seen this one already." Dumbledore, however, was not amused. "That is Augustus Rookwood," he said. "So he does have a name," Angel said. "He wouldn't answer any of my questions." "You asked him questions? And you expected him to answer?" Buffy asked, giving Angel a sideways look. "I asked nicely," Angel said, grinning. Dumbledore chose to ignore this. "What did you do with him?" he asked. "Beat him senseless," Angel said. "Then we locked him up in the cellar of Wesley's house. He's still there." "Magical authorities will be quite interested in apprehending him. Of course, we have nowhere to put him at the moment, since our prison system is rather...well, non-existent, at the moment." "I think that Wolfram and Hart could lend some assistance there," Angel said. "Solid containment; he'll never wake up. I can bring him back to LA next time I'm heading that way." Dumbledore nodded. The thought of infinite imprisonment in a dream world...he found it creepy. He also found it a bit cheesy. "Voldemort is raising an army of vampires..." Buffy said, trailing off. "Why?" "He is being cautious," Dumbledore answered. "Huh?" said both Buffy and Angel in unison. "Last time, Voldemort came very close to destroying the magical world," Dumbledore explained. "I believe that he wishes to be sure of it this time." "Well, in that case, we need to be sure ourselves, too," Buffy said. "Angel, I need you to get back to LA as soon as possible. I'll keep in touch. When I need something, I'll be on the phone straight off." Angel nodded. "My people are ready. If you need anything...Please call." Buffy nodded, smiling. She still found Angel sweet, despite all about him that was not sweet.  
She turned to Dumbledore. "I'm holding a council after breakfast. The greater majority of us are leaving, with the exception of Faith and Wood. Faith is a wanted felon and Wood is injured, so they're staying here. The rest of us are going out in search of Slayers."  
Dumbledore nodded. "I assumed this was coming soon," he said. "I'm guessing that this news, and the spiders attack last night, have spurned you on a bit?"  
"Yes," Buffy replied.  
They sat down to breakfast. When all was over, everyone gave Buffy and Faith their attention.  
"What I have here," Buffy said, indicating a bulging manila envelope being held by Faith, "is the list of your assignments. Firstly: no one ever goes anywhere alone. We're in new territory here, and I don't need people getting caught without backup. Secondly: you have to remember that these girls have to make their own decisions about what to do with their lives now that they are Slayers. You can't force them into anything.  
"Okay, here we go. Pairings are as follows..."  
So it went. At the end, everyone sat silently. They were, once again, stunned by the enormity of their tasks. There were only twenty-eight of them going out on this mission. Since everyone were in pairs, there were only fourteen groups of people heading out to search for new Slayers. Fourteen groups were to contact five hundred teenage girls in varying parts of the world. Each group had thirty-five girls to contact.  
Rona regarded Chao-Ahn. "Looks like its me and you from now on, girl."  
Chao-Ahn, whose English had improved greatly, nodded. "Yes," she said. "You and me."  
Kennedy hugged Willow closely. They were heading out together, thought that was all but expected.  
Xander looked at Andrew and stifled a moan of desperation. As the only two male 'civilians', he had feared that they would be paired together. He looked at Buffy with slight resentment that faded quickly.  
Faith nodded; satisfied that she was staying with Robin.  
Giles looked around at Shannon and thought how Buffy had chosen the most moderate girl from the flock to be his partner.  
And through it all, Angel sat with his friends and wondered how even this girl, whom he had so much respect for, would accomplish such a task.  
By nightfall, all who planned to depart Hogwarts, whether for Slayer or law firm, were gone.  
  
Craig watched the Slayers go. He was slightly disappointed to see them go. He knew, of course, that they would be back eventually. But for now, he'd lost his only real amusement. Avoiding the Potter boy had been more for his sanity than anything else, and he didn't consider it truly fun.  
The branch upon which Craig lay shifted slightly, but the young man didn't stir. Craig severely doubted that he would indulge Potter yet; school was starting in less than a week, and Craig had already heard of Potter's Defense club.  
Craig would make his introductions there.  
For now, he settled back into the curve of the tree and gazed out at the lake. It was so beautiful in the fading light. And soon, the stars would be out, and he would once more listen to their voices.  
Rather than wait, though, Craig pulled out a small Huron flute and began to play.  
The melody came to him as he played. It wasn't something he'd heard before, to his conscious mind, anyway. The song seemed to flow from the air around him, rather than from his own mind. Craig abandoned himself to the music and let it bathe him, slowly releasing the tensions of life.  
  
Harry sweated, throwing up his axe to block another blow. "You don't quit, do you?" he asked.  
Faith smiled, her short sword glinting against Harry's Hunga Munga. "Slayer stamina, kid...I could go all week, no stop."  
Harry threw her sword away and sought to strike at her midsection. He'd given up holding back early in their training session; it wasn't necessary, not on his part.  
Faith, fast as lightning, spun, and brought her sword down to deflect the axe. "Gotta be quicker, kid," she said. "You're thinking too much. Just do it. Without the Nike's."  
Harry smiled at the muggle reference and ducked to avoid Faith's sword thrust. The thrust, if it had connected, would have disemboweled him.  
Harry thrust at her again, seeking to slice her arm from her body. When she parried, he didn't stop to consider a new move, but simply went with the flow of the axe. Though his next blow wouldn't have caused much damage, it did make Faith have to lean awkwardly to block. He thrust one more time, keeping the same fluid motion of the Hunga Munga going. He would have connected if he hadn't pulled back at the last second.  
Faith panted slightly, the blade of the axe a few inches from separating her left arm from the rest of her body.  
"Good," she said. "You've got the flow down. Now I could use something to eat."  
Harry nodded. Dinner was in five minutes, and he had skipped lunch to train with Faith. As it turned out, the Slayer was an excellent teacher, and Harry hadn't wanted to leave.  
Now, thought, Harry craved food. They headed back to the castle, leaving the darkening grounds behind.  
Faith looked at the young Potter boy. He had talent, there was no doubt about it. Once he'd found his flow, he'd been hard to stop. Of course, if she'd really wanted to, Faith could have broken both his arms off and fed them to him, but she had been holding back a bit for their first training session.  
"This place is going to get boring without Buffy around," Faith said. "You want to keep training with Robin and me?"  
Harry looked up, surprised. "Yes," he said. "I would love to."  
Faith nodded. "Okay," she said. "You seem to be someone worth teaching."  
They walked the rest of the way in silence, Harry basking in the compliment. When they arrived at the Great Hall, dinner was already out. Faith ate quickly and excused herself to bring some food up to Wood.  
As soon as he'd eaten, some of Harry's euphoria from the fight wore off and he felt a bit wiped out. He decided to go to bed, but by the time he reached his room, it was no longer a matter of decision, but one of necessity. He fell asleep nearly at once.  
  
In his dream, Harry could see Ginny, though she was blurred at the corners. He reached out and touched her, feeling the sweet warmth of her face, and he pulled her into a tight embrace. He felt the overwhelming pain of his soul as he felt her heart beating through her chest. He kissed her, his cold lips meeting her warm ones.  
The pain of what he was hit him, though Harry did not yet understand what he was. He wanted to be with this girl, but he knew that it was impossible. Not now. He'd done what had to be done, but he had given her up in the process.  
"Your soul..." Ginny said, trailing off.  
"I know," Harry said. It would have been so much easier for her if he hadn't had the soul... "I love you, Ginny."  
He felt the stake enter him, and he felt himself turn to dust. Despite all of his good, Harry Potter felt Hell beckon him closer.  
With a start, both Harry and Ginny awoke. 


	16. The Sixteenth Chapter

Lupin sat comfortably in his chair. He projected comfort, anyway; inside he was a bit nervous. He glanced around the table at his friends; this was the last meeting of the Order of the Phoenix before the school year began at Hogwarts.  
"I believe that the giants have accepted Voldemort's offer," Snape was saying. "The Death Eaters have received orders recently to begin building enormous shelters in the Albanian forest. It seems as though the Dark Lord has decided to use the forest as his base of operations.  
"That's all," Snape said. "except for one thing. I've noticed a lot more vampiric activity in and around wherever Voldemort chooses to be. I don't know what that means exactly, but it can't be good."  
Snape stepped down from the head of the table. Dumbledore got up.  
"Thank you, Severus. That is all for today. Thank you for your attendance. Remember, as always, to be careful."  
The meeting broke up. Lupin reflected on Dumbledore's earlier speech about the Slayers. They were already gone -most of them, anyway - but he still believed that they would be back, and that they would play an integral role in the war.   
Lupin scratched his head. He wasn't sure of any of it. The Slayers...they were incredibly powerful, and it seemed like they had showed up just when they were the most needed.  
But that fit, too, didn't it? The prophesy said that good evil would be balanced until Harry and Voldemort could kill each other. Voldemort was building an army; they knew that. So the good guys were getting the balancing benefit.  
Lupin got up to leave. He didn't have anything planned for the day; indeed, he'd been looking forward to the time after the meeting when he could relax with a book, and not think about the war.  
Dumbledore approached Lupin. "Remus, I have a request to make of you."  
Lupin shelved his disappointment before it could show. "What do you need, Professor?" he asked.  
"I was wondering if you might come to Hogwarts for this year."  
Lupin froze for a second. Then he smiled. "In what capacity would I be operating, Headmaster?"  
Dumbledore smiled back. "Since Mr. Fudge's kind reversal of his decision to ignore Voldemort, he has, through means uncertain to me at the moment, found out about the existence of the Order. Now he's insisting that a member act in the role of military adjunct to his forces at Hogwarts -"  
"I'll do it," Lupin said.  
  
Giles sat in a small bar, reminiscent of Willy's Place, sipping a drink that he hoped was espresso. Shannon sat in the corner, watching Giles' back.  
He glanced to his left. The Masjon demon sidled closer, though it was still several feet away and trying to appear completely uninterested in Giles.  
"Well?" Giles asked.  
The Masjon shifted uncomfortably, still staring straight ahead. "Yeah," he said. "I've heard stories. We all have. Some girl fighting vampires. It's been going on now for a couple of months."  
Giles nodded. "What is her name?" he asked.  
"You think I just strolled up to some demon killer and asked her name?" the Masjon nearly cried. Its tentacles quivered.  
Giles remained silent for a moment, then indicated Shannon. "That girl back there? She could tear you limb from limb and strangle you with your own tentacles. So I think it would do your health a world of good to answer my questions."  
The Masjon once more shifted in its seat. It didn't look back at Shannon, so the Slayer cracked her knuckles to make sure that he got the message. The Masjon cringed at the noise.  
"Okay! Okay! Fine! Her name is Jennifer Dane. She lives over on Oak Street."  
Giles nodded. He had enough of this place, and by the way his drink was changing colors, it was certainly not espresso. He regarded the large Masjon demon.  
"Go home," he said. "In fact, go back to your own dimension."  
Giles got up to leave, motioning for Shannon to follow him. The Masjon whimpered again, his tentacles moving up to wipe tears out of his eye.  
"We have the info?" Shannon asked.  
"Enough to start formulating a plan," Giles said. "Her name is Jennifer and she lives on Oak Street. And she's been killing vampires, so at least she already knows about the demon world."  
Shannon nodded. "Okay. We know who and where. So now we have to worry about how."  
Giles looked at her and, not for the first time since they left Hogwarts a week ago, admired her intelligence and directness. "Yes, indeed," he said. "Do you have any suggestions?"  
Shannon considered. They turned the corner, the lights of London guiding them towards Oak Street.  
"When my Watcher arrived, he just told my parents straight off that I had the potential to become a super powered vampire killer. My mom freaked and called the hospital, trying to find a cure."  
Giles cringed. "Yes, the previous Watcher's Council wasn't very good at subtlety."  
Shannon grinned sardonically, but stayed focused. "I think it would be best, in this case, if we could catch her in the middle of a fight. Maybe give her a hand."  
Giles smiled. "That sounds good."  
They continued on and reached Oak Street quickly. The place seemed fairly ordinary; houses on both sides, street lamps glowing faintly. Shannon was reminded forcefully of the home she'd inhabited in Arizona.  
"Now all we need to do is find this Jennifer Dane," Giles said.  
"No problem," Shannon said. "If she's killing vampires, then she'll be out wherever they are tonight. So we find the vampires -"  
"And we find the girl," Giles finished.  
Shannon nodded, her face a mask of confidence and determination. "This way," she said, leading Giles down Oak Street.  
Giles followed, keeping his eyes and ears open in case of ambush. Of course, the Slayer would sense a vampire long before he would hear it, but it never hurt to be cautious. Usually, it hurt to not be cautious.  
Shannon looked around as she walked, keeping her weight on the balls of her feet. She stopped. Giles, too, stopped.  
"You hear that?" Shannon asked.  
"No," Giles said, truthfully.  
"We're getting close," Shannon said.  
As they crept still further, Giles began to hear the sounds Shannon had already picked up on. Shannon began walking faster. "There's a lot of them; maybe five or six. Come on, Mr. Giles, we have to move!"  
She broke into a run, which, catching Giles by surprise, left the Watcher behind. He nevertheless rounded the corner into an alley right behind Shannon.  
As Shannon had predicted, there were five vampires engaging a girl in her mid-teens. The girl fought well - several of the vampires were already fostering injuries - but the girl was clearly out numbered. She was losing ground quickly, and soon she'd be pressed against the alley wall.  
Without hesitation, Shannon joined the fray, producing a stake from her back pocket. She took the first vamp completely by surprise, staking it as it sought to strike the cornered girl. As its dust scattered, several of the vampires turned.  
"Another one?" asked one of the vampires.  
"Good guess," Shannon said, throwing a punch.  
Giles pulled the crossbow off his back. The vampires had yet to notice him, and he hoped to load the bow before they did.  
The cornered girl took a moment to register the fact that another teenage girl had come to her rescue. Then, apparently opting to shoot first and ask questions later, she attacked on of her vampire foes.  
Giles worked at the crossbow. Just a second more. He raised the bow - and found nothing but two girls and a whole lot of dust.  
"I hate it when you do that," he said.  
The girl, who was breathing heavily and bleeding from a small cut over her eye, turned to Shannon. "Who the bloody hell are you?" she asked.  
  
Angel stared out the window of his office. That he could stare out the window of his office still amazed him a bit. Since taking over Wolfram and Hart, Angel had become more and more acquainted with the sunlight. Part of him was scared of the sunlight that he could now look at from behind the windows of Wolfram and Hart; it was that same part of him that was still afraid of crosses and holy water.  
Angel's phone rang, disturbing his thoughts. He answered immediately, having told his secretary to patch all calls through to his office.  
"Hello?" he said.  
"Hello, Angel," Buffy. Just what he'd been waiting for.  
"What's up?" he asked, maintaining his cool.  
"I was wondering if you could put up a couple of my people up for a while - Xander and Andrew," she said.  
Angel nodded, then remembered that he was on the phone. "Yeah, sure," he said.  
"Great," Buffy said. "How's LA?"  
"Quiet," Angel replied. "It's getting me worried."  
"Yeah, cause you never worry about anything," Buffy replied, sardonically.  
"Where are you, anyway?" Angel asked, ignoring her quip.   
"France," Buffy said. "I just realized that Xander and Andrew would be getting to LA today, and I thought I'd call."  
"How goes the search?" Angel asked.  
"Giles and Shannon met our first new recruit last night," she replied. "All good. The kid was already fighting vampires. She took a bit of convincing, but she's going to go to with them."  
Angel grinned. "Great."  
"I have to be going," Buffy said. "The hotel here charges ridiculously for long distance calls. I'll see you around."  
"Bye," Angel said. They hung up mutually.  
Angel sighed, and called his secretary and told her to set up some living quarters for two males. She assured him that it would be taken care of.  
After a moment of relaxation, Angel got a call from his secretary. "Sir, you have a visitor here. She's insisting that she is an old friend of yours."  
"Send her in," said Angel.  
A girl in her mid twenties walked through the door of Angel's office immediately. The doors had never been touched; instead, they'd simply swung open of their own accord. Angel stood. He could barely believe who he was seeing.  
"Bethany?" he asked.  
"The one and only," she said.  
"What are you doing here?" Angel asked, dumbfounded at seeing such an old friend back again after so long.  
"I heard some rumors," she said. "The first one was that you'd lost your soul. The second one was that you'd become the head of the company that tried to drive me insane and turn me into an assassin. I didn't want to believe it. Now make me not believe it, or I'm going to destroy this whole building."  
  
Harry awoke from his dreams and, for a moment, didn't remember what day it was. Then he sprang out of bed.   
He was going to see Ginny again today.  
Harry didn't know what to do with himself. He hadn't seen Ginny in nearly a month now...he was kept harboring ridiculous fears that she had somehow found another guy...even though the only guy she'd been in contact with that summer was Ron...and the disturbing imagery that invoked was enough to make him sick.  
Harry shook his head. He was overanalyzing, something he'd always had problems with. He dressed, trying to keep his mind blank. It wasn't working, but he kept trying anyway.  
After he was done dressing, Harry realized that it was nearly noon. He had taken four hours to get dressed. He hadn't been aware of the passage of any time; indeed, it had felt like time had gone and hid as he thought about Ginny.  
The problem was that he thought she could easily find a guy better for her than him. It was the classic problem of the hero; the girl just isn't safe around him.  
He shook his head. He exited the room and went quickly down to the Great Hall. He stopped briefly in the Common Room to appreciate the fact that it would no longer be perpetually empty after today. That thought, at least, cheered him greatly.  
On his way into the Hall, Harry caught sight of Craig. Harry stopped. He hadn't gotten a chance to meet the elusive boy, not face to face. Harry had desperately wanted to after the fight with the spiders; Dumbledore's words stuck in his mind. Craig needed a friend.  
"Hello," Harry said.  
Craig looked at him. "Hi," he said.  
"What's up?" Harry asked. He realized how inadequate the question seemed, but he couldn't think of anything better.  
"The teachers have requested my presence to assist in preparing the school for the arrival of the students," Craig said.  
They both fell silent. Eventually, Harry decided that it would be best to just go. But Craig stopped him.  
"Wait," Craig said. "You fought really well against the spiders."  
"Thanks," Harry said. "But you did better. That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen."  
Craig shrugged at him. "It wasn't all that great," he said. "I could have done better. Perhaps that man wouldn't have been hurt if I'd been quicker. I'm always just a bit too slow..." he trailed off, listening to the yelling of his former classmates.  
Harry, seeing the pain in Craig's eyes, reached out and put a hand on the boy's shoulder to calm him. Instantly, Craig jerked up straight as a board. His eye's rolled back into his head, and he began to twitch uncontrollably.  
  
"James! James, he's here!" screamed Lily Potter.  
"I know! Take Harry and run! Now!" James said, drawing out his wand. "I'll hold him off!"  
"I don't want to go without you!" Lily yelled.  
James grabbed Lily quickly, hugging her quickly. "Lily, you have to do this," he said. "It's Harry's only chance. Just go! Quick!"  
He shoved her quickly away, taking one last, tearful look at his son. "Good-bye," he whispered, so that none could hear.  
He turned and stood, straight-backed, and stared down the approaching shape...  
  
Craig twitched one more time and came out of it, panting. Harry looked at him in horror, having been about to dash into the Hall for help.  
"Are you okay?" Harry asked.  
Craig nodded. "I just need a second," he said.  
Harry knelt down beside the other boy. "What was that all about?" Harry asked.  
Craig, whose breathing was slowly returning to normal, regarded Harry for a while. "You know about my...gift...don't you?" he asked.  
Harry hesitated. "Yes," he said.  
"Sometimes, physical contact with someone causes the voices to overwhelm me," he explained. "It hasn't happened for a long time."  
Harry now hesitated further, waiting until Craig had pulled himself to his feet. "Whose voice was it?" Harry asked, his curiosity finally overcoming his fear of the answer.  
Craig began to open the door to the Great Hall. He stopped, but didn't turn. He didn't think he could face Harry now. "Your parents," he said, simply.  
Harry's fists clenched. He made a concerted effort to keep the vomit down. "And what did they say to you?"  
Craig once more took a long time to answer. "They loved you very much."  
He entered the Hall, still a bit shaky, leaving Harry, newly shaky.  
Harry eventually entered the Hall as well, though Craig was gone by then. Harry had never noticed the boy leave. Dumbledore sat in the hall with a cup of tea.  
"Harry! Just the man we've been waiting for," he said. "Our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher needs some help unpacking."  
Dumbledore motioned behind himself, and Harry's jaw dropped when he saw who stood before him.  
  
Ginny was nervous as a...well, very nervous person. She hadn't seen Harry in nearly a month, and...  
You can probably guess the rest, right?  
She sat with Ron and Hermione on the Hogwarts Express. Somehow, defying all the laws of nature that Ginny was used to, they'd arrived at King's Cross with plenty of time to spare. It was a first in Weasley history that Ginny attributed to Hermione and Lupin, who had roused the two redheads with enough time to get to the station.  
Now, she sat slumped in a chair. The compartment was empty but for the three students and Lupin, who had gotten them to station full of energy and then promptly fell asleep.  
"He must have something about trains," Hermione offered.  
Ginny got up. "I have to use the loo," she said. "Be back in a minute."  
She left. Hermione looked at Ron. "Your sister is a wreck and you haven't said a single word!"  
Ron looked aghast. "She's...what, exactly?"  
Hermione shook her head. "You can't tell? What kind of brother are you? She's obviously worried about seeing Harry again! You remember that look she always used to get!"  
Ron's angst faded into anger. "She's fine, Hermione," he said. "You're just making this up. I don't know why you're always making people seem so..."  
"Three-dimensional?" Hermione asked, sarcastically.  
"Over emotional!" Ron yelled. "And don't call me two-dimensional!"  
"I didn't call you two-dimensional!" Hermione yelled back. Lupin stirred, unnoticed by the two teens.  
"Well, you as good as did! I hate it when you do that! You should be -"  
Ron was unable to finish the sentence, owing to the fact that Hermione had practically jumped on him, kissing him.  
He returned the kiss, neither of them fully comprehending what was going on. They were making out, moving there bodies against each other in rhythm.  
"Oh my God..." Ginny had gotten back.  
Ron and Hermione pulled apart. Now both of them looked aghast. "We just -"  
"But I didn't mean -"  
"Oh, my -"  
"I leave for two minutes!" Ginny said. "You two are prefects! You should be setting a good example for the younger kids!"  
"I know," Hermione said, regaining some of her composure. "We just...lost control, I guess."  
Ginny shook her head. "We're going to be at Hogwarts soon...I think that you two need to be as far away from each other as possible when you're changing..."  
Both Ron and Hermione blushed, and Ginny grinned. Hermione and Ginny left the compartment to get changed.  
"Hermione, what was that all about?" Ginny asked, when they were alone.  
"I don't know," Hermione said. "We were arguing..."  
"Yeah, I could hear you," Ginny said.  
"...and I just sort of grabbed him, and I kissed him, and he kissed me back..."  
Ginny shook her head. "I cannot believe that you made out with my brother."  
Hermione looked strangely meek. "I can't believe it either."  
Ginny decided to be the dutiful friend. "Well, did you really want to?"  
Hermione looked scared. "Well, yes," she said, blushing anew. "I suppose I did. But now what? I mean, you've been through this sort of thing with Harry. What happened after you two kissed for the first time?"  
Ginny looked away. "Oh, don't tell me..." Hermione said.  
"Okay, so we've never actually kissed," Ginny said. "We slept together, Hermione."  
Hermione blushed deeper. "Okay," Hermione said. "That'll work. What did you do afterwards?"  
"We talked," Ginny said. "It was bit uncomfortable at first, but we got over it. Really, it'll all seem natural to you in a while."  
Hermione looked sideways at Ginny. "You really love him, don't you?"  
Ginny nodded. "I do," she said.  
  
Harry stood with Hagrid awaiting the train. Hagrid had been gone until just an hour ago.  
"Scoutin'," he explained. "Dumbledore's had me all over Europe, lookin' ter see if the giants were really joinin' You-Know-Who. Looks like they are," he added, scowling. "Too bad, too bad...how's your summer been, Harry?"  
Harry looked vacant. "Long," he said.  
Hagrid eyed him. "Yeh, you've got that look about yeh," he said.  
Just then, the train rounded the corner and came up, halting in front of the platform.  
"Here we go," Hagrid muttered.  
A second later, Harry knew why Hagrid seemed apprehensive. Harry had always been a part of the wave of students descending off the train; thus, he had never been able to truly appreciate its size, or its strength.  
Harry was immediately swept away from Hagrid, though he could still hear the big man's yells of, "First Years!" above the racket made by his class mates. A few of them even stopped to say hello to him. He greeted them back, attempting to remember his manners despite the fact that his brain was somewhere else entirely.  
He spotted the reason for his distraction after a few minutes. Ginny was already striding towards him, having noticed him sooner. He pushed through the crowd as well, fighting the current to get to her sooner.  
And then they met, Harry kissing Ginny fully, both of them forgetting their worries and insecurities as the moment froze and everyone around them seemed to disappear. Good thing, too, since Ginny would have blushed deeply to hear Hermione say, "And she told me off...", and Harry would probably have killed Colin when the boy's camera clicked.  
It was a perfect moment, and when it ended, seemingly months later, Harry and Ginny pulled apart. "So...I guess you're happy to see me?" Harry asked.  
"I've been miserable without you," she said.  
"Likewise," Harry said, taking hold of her hand as they ventured up to the carriages. Harry looked at the thestrals with kindness and petted one. It didn't seem to notice. Harry shrugged, happy nevertheless, because Ginny's hand was still in his.  
She was laughing. "What?" he asked.  
"I just thought you looked funny," she said. "Standing there petting thin air."  
"Funny, eh?" Harry asked. "Do I have to tickle you again?"  
Ginny dropped his hand immediately and threw up her arms. "Oh, no you don't!" she said. "I'm qualified to defend myself now! After all," she said. "I'm a Slayer."  
Harry smiled at her. "Yeah," he said. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you about it, but I just couldn't think of anything that wasn't blunt and altogether not subtle."  
"Its okay," Ginny said, retaking Harry's hand as they entered the carriage. "You're forgiven."  
They traveled up to the castle in silence. Harry admired the looks on his friends' faces as they saw Hogwarts come into view. He turned to look too. He would never get tired of seeing the castle. Never.  
With Ginny at his side, he entered the castle.  
  
Once everyone was settled in, Ron began their customary start of the school year speech. It was somewhat of a tradition by now. "I wonder who our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will be?" he asked.  
Harry, who already knew, immediately clamped his mouth shut. He thought that he'd done impressively at not attracting his friend's attention. He'd attracted Ginny's attention anyway.  
"Harry, do you know something?" she asked.  
"Me? Oh, no," Harry said. "What would I know? I know nothing, that's what I know."  
This, of course, gave him away, and everyone within ear shot turned to listen.  
"Oh, you'll find out soon enough," Harry said. "It would spoil the surprise."  
At that moment, Dumbledore stood. "Hello everyone, and welcome back to yet another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I trust that you all managed the summer holiday's okay.  
"As you can probably guess, there will be several rather large changes made this year. Firstly, a group of young ladies, called Vampire Slayers, will be coming to Hogwarts later this year. There will be upwards of five hundred of them, and I'd advise each and every one of you to extend them the utmost courtesy. The greater majority of them are new to the wizarding world. They are powerful, though, and will be aiding us greatly.  
"Secondly, and most sadly, Professor Dolores Umbridge has declined my invitation to return as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Her response, and I quote: "Hell no." Due to this, we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, whom I will be introducing you to shortly.  
"Third. Most of the rules here have been amended - again. I know that it isn't always easy to keep up with them, but the times are changing, and so must we. All students must be inside the castle before sunset each day from now on. After four in the afternoon, no student will bee allowed anywhere on the grounds without a teacher to supervise. This is for your own protection; and before you begin worrying, Quidditch has not been cancelled."  
There was an audible sigh of relief. Just then, the doors to the Great Hall opened, and a tall, well built man walked in.  
"Aha, here he is, at last," Dumbledore said. "Students, I would like you to welcome your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher...Viktor Krum."  
  
Wholly bats and whistles, Batman! That was enormous. A great loud cry of 'Bunker shorts' from everyone who liked that chapter. It certainly took long enough to write, huh? I got writer's block whilst writing for Lupin. Sorry kids, but it happens to the best of us. And it happens to me, too. See you all next chapter...whenever that comes out. 


	17. The Seventeenth Chapter

You know what pisses me off? Power outages. They suck. I lost two pages of work on this chapter because of them. Erg. Back to the story then.  
  
"Well?" Bethany asked. Her eyes glowed dangerously.  
Angel circled his desk. "This is going to take a while, isn't it?" she asked him.  
"Only a little while," Angel said. Standing in front of her, keeping his hands in perfect view so as to not arouse suspicion, Angel related the events of the last year.  
When he was done, Bethany observed him closely. "And why should I believe that? It sounds incredibly far fetched."  
"Sort of like a girl with TK who can blow up buildings with her mind?" Angel asked. Bethany didn't seem amused.  
"I told you to convince me. Not insult me. Angel knew better than to insult me."  
"I know you have a sense of humor, Bethany," Angel said. "I wanted to try and reach it."  
Bethany took a moment to consider. "I want to believe that you're Angel," she said. "I really do. But where Wolfram and Hart are concerned..."  
Angel smiled at her. "Never believe a word they say."  
"You were the one who taught me that, as I recall," she said. Finally, she smiled.  
Angel sighed inwardly with relief. "So, you're not going to destroy my building?"  
Bethany shook her head. "You're building...creepy."  
"You don't know the half of it," Angel said. "I spent four years trying my very hardest to bring Wolfram and Hart down, and now I run it."  
Bethany smiled. "In a strange way, you've done pretty good for yourself."  
Angel admired her traveling cloak. "So have you," he observed.  
"Okay," she said, taking a seat as Angel did the same. They had reverted to their old friendship now that Bethany was no longer threatening to destroy Wolfram and Hart.  
Angel was still a bit concerned. "Who told you I'd lost my soul?" he asked.  
Bethany shrugged. "Just the word on the street," she said. "I was looking for information on a demon I'd been tracking, and one piece of information lead to another, and then...well, once I put it all together and realized what is meant, I came straight here."  
Angel nodded. Word on the street...notoriously unreliable, of course. He'd relied on it for too long to not know that. Something else jumped out at him though.  
"You were hunting a demon?" he asked.  
"Yeah," Bethany said, casually. Seeing the look on Angel's face, she continued. "What? What did you think I was going to do with my powers?"  
Angel smiled at her. "Good for you," he said. He was about to say something else when a Wesley and Gunn came barging in. Both were armed.  
"Angel! Where's the intruder....?" Wesley asked. Bethany turned to face him. Recognition sprang immediately into Wesley's face, but Gunn, who had never seen her before, chose to shoot first. Angel lunged, attempting to put himself between Bethany and the bullet, but he froze in midair, not capable of moving. So, too, froze the bullet, right in front of Bethany. She looked down at it in amusement, and it exploded into tiny fragments of lead that showered impressively down into the carpet.  
Gunn was about to take another shot when Wesley put a hand on his shoulder. "Its all right," he said. "She's not an intruder."  
"Just a girl with a hell of a good mind for violence," she supplied, and laughed. Gunn eyed her with undisguised suspicion.  
"Who is she?" he asked, ignoring her and addressing Wesley.  
"Telekinetic we helped a few years ago," Wesley supplied. "How have you been, Bethany?"  
"Well enough," she replied. "I'm not working out of a multimillion dollar law firm, but I'm getting by."  
Wesley smiled. "It's good to see you again."  
Angel broke in. "Would you mind letting me down? I'm getting air sick."  
Bethany let Angel down, slowly, righting him in the process. He landed gingerly on his feet. "Thank you," he said. "I should have learned a long time ago that you could take care of yourself."  
"I appreciate the gesture," she allowed.  
"So...who's hungry?" Wesley asked.  
  
"Let the feast begin," Dumbledore said, melodrama showing through despite his attempts to mask it.  
It took a moment before everyone recovered from the shock of their new Defense teacher. Then, everyone began talking and eating like crazy.  
Everyone except Ron. The red-headed boy sat stoically in his seat and refuse to look anywhere but straight ahead at the blank stone wall.  
Ginny shot Harry a look. Neither wanted to be the one to try to bring Ron out of it; it was likely that yelling would ensue quickly in this instance. But one of them had to; if Hermione tried to, then it would be worse by several hundred times.  
Eventually, Harry surrendered to Ginny's pleading expression. "Is there something wrong with your food, Ron?"  
"No," he said, without changing his expression.  
"Then why aren't you eating it?" Ginny asked, backing Harry, for which he was quite grateful.  
"No," Ron said again, without hearing.  
Ginny raised an eyebrow. Her brother was shutting everything out. Obviously, the arrival of Krum had effected him worse than Harry had anticipated.  
He whispered in Ginny's ear, "Maybe I should have forewarned him."  
"He would have still taken it badly," she whispered back. "Come on, we have to find some way of snapping him out of it."  
"Ron, Dobby is shredding up beets and pouring it in your hair," Harry said. Ginny gave him a stern look, and Ron continued to stare.  
Hermione, for her part, was eating quietly. Perhaps she realized that anything she said would probably touch off an argument.  
Thus went dinner; after five minutes more, Harry and Ginny gave up trying to get Ron to eat. It was hopeless.  
When they'd finished, Hermione told them the new password to Gryffindor Tower (Harry already knew it, of course), and left. Shortly thereafter, Ron left too.  
As soon as he walked out the hall, hard stare firmly in place, Hermione ambushed him. She didn't say anything; she simply kissed him. At first, he didn't know that it was her. Then, he finally snapped out his funk.  
When she pulled back, people were staring. Hermione blushed, but she looked determinately at Ron. "Good night," she said, and departed.  
He stared after her, and a smile crept up his face almost without his knowledge. He, too, left for the Tower.  
Meanwhile, Harry and Ginny were just finishing and getting up to leave the hall. As they excited the door, hand in hand, they too were ambushed.  
It was Malfoy. He made a quick note of the proximity of Harry to Ginny before designing his first jab of the year. "Looks like Wee Weasley's little dreams have finally come true," he said. "What kind of potion did you give him, Wee Weasley?"  
Harry started towards Malfoy, but Ginny put up a hand. "I can take care of Malfoy," she said. She turned to the Slytherin boy. "How's daddy, Malfoy?" she asked.  
He turned quickly red, and then all the color drained from his face. "Why, you little..."  
Harry stepped forward. "Go away, Malfoy," he said. Seeing the step as a challenge, Crab and Goyle also stepped up to assert their presence. Harry laughed at them. "And you can call off your flunkies," he continued. "If dear old daddy couldn't manage to do me in, and all his friends couldn't do me in, and his...employer...couldn't do me in, then you're brain deficient thugs don't scare me in the least."  
Crab and Goyle weren't used to being laughed at. They looked to Malfoy for instructions. He, too, was thrown by Harry's cool view of the situation. "Lets go," he said, grumpy. But he turned for once last jab. "Soon," he said. "Soon, you and your little bitch are going to be very deeply unhappy."  
Harry and Ginny stood for a moment. Now that Malfoy was almost undoubtedly working for Lord Voldemort, they had to start taking his threats seriously. That one was vague, so they decided not to bother with it.  
"I'm not very tired," Harry said, truthfully, as they eyed the staircase.  
"Neither am I," Ginny said.  
"I have an idea," Harry said, smiling at her.  
  
Faith was hitting a punching bag, hard. That was the general idea, anyway, but she always went the extra mile to try and bruise the punching bag. Call it a special relationship, if you will, but Faith believed, somewhat childishly, that a punching bag couldn't achieve full punching bag happiness unless someone really wailed on it once and a while.  
Perhaps that was just her wild excuse for anger. Hitting was therapy for Faith; even after all the therapy and rehabilitation, some good violence still did wonders for her disposition.  
She was in a great mood, then, after punching the stuffing out of the bag for two hours. So it was that she was duly happy to see Harry walk into the training room.  
"Hello, Harry," she greeted the boy, who she'd come to consider her protŽgŽ. Then she noticed Ginny. "Who's the girl?"  
"Faith, this is Ginny," Harry said. "Ginny, Faith."  
Faith nodded at Ginny. "You're one of the new Slayers, aren't you?"  
Ginny nodded. "Yes, I am," she said.  
"Good to have you with us," Faith said. Then she checked her watch. "It's nearly nine at night - shouldn't you two be in bed?"  
Harry shrugged. "We're a bit restless," he said. "We thought we might just use up some unwanted energy."  
Faith considered that. There was only one thing she did besides fight to relieve unnecessary energy at night...but she certainly wasn't going to suggest that to the two teenagers.  
"Sure thing," she said. "Just don't hurt each other too bad."  
She left.  
Harry eyed Ginny. He stepped into the fighters circle and reached inside his cloak, withdrawing the Hunga Munga which he kept with him at all times. "Coming, dear?" he asked.  
Ginny plucked a short sword off the wall. "Coming," she said. They met and their weapons sparked. Time seemed to fade away as they circled and thrust. Neither seemed afraid of hurting the other; their trust in each other was, somehow, complete. None of that entered their minds. They started sweating quickly, panting with the effort they made, even though neither was really trying to hurt the other.  
After an hour, they both collapsed against each other, spent. They breathed heavily and evenly. They were asleep.  
  
Craig walked through the enormous, dark room, expectantly. He knew that she would be here - she had to be here. This dance was so important to her, that she wouldn't miss it for the world.  
He knew that he shouldn't be there. He knew, and yet he still went. He had to; he couldn't disappoint Skye like that. Not after all she'd done for him...He wouldn't disappoint her like that. He just wouldn't.  
Then...then, there she was. She was radiant. Her dress flowed down around her, shimmering darkly. She'd always had a thing for dark garments. The sight of her took Craig's breath away.  
He stopped just in front of her, looking down into her eyes. They shined as well, the blue there seeming to capture him and not let him go. She laughed when words failed him. Instead of trying to put into words what he felt, he reached out and slowly, gently, brushed her face with his hand. Skye let her breath out slowly.  
"You're beautiful," Craig said. His voice shook; he didn't know whether he'd ever meant anything with the same forcefulness that he'd meant that sentence.  
"And you're too kind," Skye replied.  
"May I have a dance?" Craig asked.  
"I think that could be arranged," she said, smiling.  
Craig took her hand and lead her out onto the dance floor. They danced. And they danced. And when the music began to quiet, as they started to leave, as he was helping her with her coat and preparing to walk her home...he whispered in her ear. "I love you."  
She didn't look back. She didn't have to. "I love you too."  
  
Craig awoke from the dream with tears in his eyes. The emotional vacuum he usually felt when thinking about anyone dead had gone to hell in a hand basket, though the hand basket seemed too cheerful for this particular memory.  
Craig tried and failed to collect himself. It was the first time since leaving America that he'd dreamt about Skye; he hadn't expected it in the slightest. It shocked and nauseated him so much that his branch wobbled and he nearly fell off.  
As he had before when dreaming of Skye, Craig quickly sorted through the voices. But she wasn't there. In the months since her death, Craig had never heard Skye.  
Not once.  
She wasn't there now. He cursed silently. He'd never particularly wanted to hear any of the voices; to the best of his knowledge, until Skye, no one he truly cared about had ever died. But now that someone he'd had feelings for...someone he'd loved...was dead, he couldn't hear a thing from that person. It was nearly as maddening as the din that had for so long tried to subvert his mind to its madness.  
He still searched for Skye, more calmly now that the immediate shock of the memory had worn off. No, she definitely was not there. He cursed again, something that he very rarely did.  
He would have given anything in the world to hear her voice one more time. To be able to tell her one more time how much he'd loved her. How much she'd meant to him. How she'd saved him...and how guilty he'd felt when he had failed to save her...  
Craig drifted off into sleep with a bitter taste in his mouth.  
  
  
Has this been a long time coming? Yes, sorry, pardon me please, for I have other things to attend to. Like not failing chemistry. Maybe I'll write another chapter. Until then...see you around. Oh, and if anyone is interested in being a beta, or just helping me work out some plot idea's that I have kicking around, I'm on AIM all the time. Screen name is vyo476. Peace out, children. 


	18. The Eighteenth Chapter

When Harry and Ginny awoke the next morning, they realized what had happened, again, and blushed.  
"We've got to stop waking up like this," Harry said, smiling.  
Ginny feigned injury. "Don't you like waking up with me?"  
Harry looked her straight in the eye. There was a time that a question like that - any question, really - from a pretty girl would have caused him to stutter without end. Now, he knew the answer and gave it, as though it was completely natural. It was completely natural. "Of course I do," he said. "I love it." Ginny smiled happily. "But we have to show some restraint about it now that we're back at school."  
Ginny climbed to her feet. "You're right," she said. Then she laughed.  
"What?" Harry asked, climbing to his feet as well and picking up his Hunga Munga.  
"You're the sensible one," she said.  
Harry shook his head. "Come on. Its still early, and we both need showers."  
They went back to the castle, clutching each others hands.  
  
Craig walked through the forest. He knew that the demons were watching him; he could feel their gazes. He didn't return them; he wanted the demons to believe that he didn't know that he was there. They were hungry.  
That was okay. So was he.  
He trudged deeper through the forest. He made no noise; it was not in his nature to create a lot of noise. Besides, if the demons couldn't manage to track him when he wasn't even trying to conceal himself, then he didn't think them worthy of a fight.  
He needed a fight. Nothing cleared his head better, and all the dreams of Skye were getting to him. He needed an out.  
It was so ironic; she'd been his out once. She had been his escape from reality, and now she was reality bearing down on his shoulders. But it wasn't her voice that kept him sweating at night; it was her memory. It was thinking of all the ways he'd failed her and...  
He needed a good fight.  
The forest kept getting darker as he trudged deeper into the foliage. It really didn't deserve to be called foliage - it was all a very drab color. Green? Brown? It didn't matter. Craig was out for blood.  
He sensed what he was looking for: A little open patch of ground, where the predawn darkness was just starting to give way to sunrise. It was perfect. Craig had already started analyzing its strengths and weaknesses before he'd even made the conscious decision to fight here. Yes, his subconscious was taking over. He could already feel the blissful clarity of the fight peaking over his tormented mind and shining down into it.  
Craig stopped and picked up a branch. With a few deft movements, he'd stripped it of its small branches. He weighed it in his hands. It would do.  
He waited. The demons were advancing on him. He could feel their presence. There were four of them. Out for a little breakfast.  
Craig's mind went blank. The first of the demons leapt out at him. Its spiky limbs tore at the trees as it hurtled toward Craig. Craig lifted his makeshift staff quickly and caught the demon with it, stopping it violently. It fell, disoriented by the blow to its skull, and lay for a moment, trying to collect itself. The other demons attacked.  
Craig met the first, an Ursine, with a vicious uppercut that caused its jaw to rattle. Feeling the presence of a demon behind him, Craig leapt, turned a somersault, and hit a tree. He pushed off it quickly, transferring momentum into a lunge. His staff was held before him as he hit the demon and rolled. It had only taken a minor nick from the staff, and it counterattacked, slicing into Craig's shoulder. Craig barely felt the pain.  
Instead of recoiling, like most would have, Craig reached up and grabbed the demons clawed arm. He flipped himself diagonally over the demons horned head, still holding the arm. In mid air, he reversed his grip on the arm so as not to rip it entirely out its socket. He still needed it.  
As he landed, he twisted to keep the demon in pain. And, in one quick motion, he turned a quick sweep kick that removed the demon from the ground. Using this forceful parting of demon and earth, Craig hurled the demon mightily at the spiky demon that was just rising. Both demons were carried through several trees before they slumped in a bloody heap at the foot of a large pine.  
A small four-legged demon came in low on Craig. He turned a quick flip onto a branch. The branch was incredibly small. It didn't hold his weight for long. The branch took several others out as well. As they fell, leaving Craig hanging from a sturdier branch, the demon realized its mistake. It was caught underneath the falling branches, which were too heavy for it to move.  
Craig dropped down out of the tree. The Ursine took one look at him and fled. It would find easier breakfast. Craig glanced down at the four-legged demon. It was still struggling to get out. Craig weighed himself, and swept an enormous heel kick down into the four-legged demon. It's skull shattered in a shower of brains.  
Craig looked at the ruins of the demon's head. He was satisfied. For now.  
  
Shannon and Giles approached another house. This was their fifth. So far, they hadn't experienced a single 'no'. This one would be tough, though.  
For one thing, Giles had had to relearn what little Dutch he'd picked up at Oxford. For another thing, they were dealing with the first girl who was not, to the best of their knowledge, aware yet of the supernatural nature of her powers.  
And she was rich.  
Rijke Lous lived in a huge mansion in the Netherlands. The land locked town of Zwolle didn't hold too many millionaires. But the Lous family was one of them. They'd lived in Zwolle since after the fall of the Third Reich, and their daughter had recently experienced some strange problems.  
That was all Giles and Shannon knew. Giles was grateful for all the times making 'first contact', as he'd come to think of it, had been easy. This time would be anything but easy.  
They stood outside a huge wrought iron gate and considered. In the weeks since their departure from Hogwarts, Giles had come to rely on the intuitive young Slayer very much, and he turned to her now. Seeing the gesture, she shrugged.  
"I'm drawing a blank," she said.  
"Well, I suppose we could stand here like idiots until someone runs us down coming in or out of the mansion," Giles said. They moved off into the bushes near the gate.  
"Giles...I think I have a plan," Shannon said.  
After a moment, Giles said, "Well....?"  
Shannon paused. "We break in," she said, and waited for the storm to hit.  
It didn't. Giles sighed instead, considering. "Perhaps that's the only way," he said. "I can't see any other way of getting into this place."  
"But once we're inside..."  
"We won't get lucky again," Giles said. "We'll explain to her what has happened to her, wait until she laughs, and then show her that you have the same powers she does."  
Shannon nodded in resignation. "Let's do it, then."  
It was nearing nightfall. The Netherlands autumn was not pleasant; both Slayer and Watcher were freezing. And, to make things even more fun, it began snowing.  
"Oh, lovely..." Giles muttered, as he and Shannon scaled the wall.  
The security system was alerted to their presence almost immediately.  
"Security dogs!" Shannon yelled.  
"Oh, drat it, I hate dogs!" Giles yelled. They both broke for the house.  
The dogs gave furious chase. One of them managed to nip at Giles' jacket, but it didn't get a firm hold on him. Shannon smashed a window in with a quick blow and pulled Giles through. The dogs did not follow.  
"They must have been trained not to come inside," Shannon hypothesized.  
They were in a darkened hallway, which was now conspicuously covered in glass and snow. There was some red amongst the white snow; breaking the glass had not been without pain. Shannon endeavored to disguise her injury.  
"Come on, let's get out of here," she said. Giles nodded. The approached the nearest door cautiously. They were about to reach it when it came swinging open.  
A maid, carrying a basket full of wash, came through. She stopped when she saw Giles and Shannon. For a moment, they all stood frozen. Then, hell broke loose.  
"Hulp! Hulp! Indringers zijn in het huis!" the maid yelled. Giles and Shannon ran in the opposite direction...and crashed into a butler.  
The butler dropped the wine bottled he'd been carrying all over them, soaking them in expensive French wine. "Why do they have so many bloody servants?" Giles yelled as he passed the astonished butler.   
Giles glanced behind himself. There were guards chasing them. He considered standing and fighting, and he quickly discarded the idea. His current situation would not be endearing to Ms. Lous. Beating up her security wouldn't help matters.  
Neither would getting caught. Giles and Shannon ducked into a side room. The lights were dimmed, and they kept it that way. The guards ran right past.  
"I thought that only worked in the movies," Shannon said lightly.  
Giles flicked on the light to discover where they'd taken shelter. The room was filled with plaques and certificates that, undoubtedly, had been won by the elder Mr. Lous.   
"Not bad...not bad at all," Shannon muttered, looking at a diploma from a big Western school.  
"Let's focus," Giles said. "We do have a mission, in case you'd forgotten."  
"Okay, don't get snippy," Shannon said, coolly.  
Giles scowled. Shannon had a way of saying semi-insulting things that didn't insult him. It was uncanny. It was also annoying, but they didn't have time for annoyance.  
"Come on," Giles said. He pushed the door open a crack; the coast was clear. "Let's go."  
The room of Rijke Lous was, as it turned out, right down the hall from the trophy room. Giles and Shannon found it easily enough, once they exited the trophy room, for very loud music was issuing forth from the girl' door.  
Giles and Shannon halted outside the door. "Ready?" Giles asked Shannon.  
Shannon frowned, but nodded. "Yeah, I'm ready. Let's do this."  
They burst through the door. Sitting on the bed was a teenage girl. Her hair, which was apparently blonde, held streaks of pink. She wore a pair of swept back glasses and a dress.  
She bolted up at the intrusion. "Who are you?" she yelled in Dutch.  
Giles raised his hands in the universal sign of peace. "We're here to help you," he said.  
It was then that she smelled them. "Oh, you have been drinking," she said. "I'm calling the security to take you away."  
"No! Don't do that!" Giles said quickly. When he took a step forward, the girl recoiled a bit.  
"Please don't hurt me!" she said.  
"We're not going to hurt you," Giles said. "We want to help you."  
"How can a drunk man and his daughter help me?" the girl asked.  
"I'm not drunk," Giles said. "And this is not my daughter. This is Shannon."  
Rijke didn't even glance at Shannon. Since Shannon didn't know the language, there would have been no point.  
"So what if she is not your daughter? I don't care. I want you gone."  
This was going nowhere fast. So Giles took the plunge. "Have you been experiencing strange physical...er...boosts?" he blurted.  
Rijke stopped considering escape and, for the first time, looked at Giles with something between suspicion and hopefulness.  
"Yes...how do you know that?"  
Giles smiled.  
  
Xander and Andrew had bungled up two missions already. One girl had been the daughter of a drunk, and when she discovered her Slayer powers, the first thing she did was beat the living shit out of him. Xander and Andrew had barely been able to stop her before she'd killed the bastard.  
The other had been a bit more tragic. The other Slayer had been out for a walk when Xander and Andrew had met her. It had been going good; the two Scoobies had managed to subtly introduce themselves. Then they'd walked right into a vampire.  
She was still in the hospital from the blood loss.  
The problem was the Xander and Andrew didn't have a clue how to break the news properly to a new Slayer. It was a delicate operation, one that required precision and subtlety - things neither man possessed in large quantities.  
They were working on their third assignment when a message came in for them from Buffy. It contained the details of Giles and Shannon's successful encounters, as well as several techniques developed by other pairs.  
"Well, at least we're not the only ones having no luck," Andrew said. "Rona and Chao haven't managed to get anyone yet, either."  
"Andrew, we 'got' two people," Xander said rhetorically. "One pulled a Faith on us and disappeared; the other is in Bayview County Hospital because of us. Face it: We can find 'em, but we can't catch 'em."  
"Gotta catch 'em all..." Andrew muttered, useless if ever useless was.  
Xander gazed up and down the sheet. Of the fifty-three new Slayers contacted so far, forty-eight had decided to go to Hogwarts. Everyone was doing marvelous.  
Except the two dunces who got people into hospitals.  
Xander tossed the paper down. Oh, they were making excellent time. At this rate, they'd be done in a little over two months - a full month before what Giles had predicted. But no one would ever be finished if he and Poke Boy didn't get their acts together.  
Their hotel room was large and well furnished, thanks to Wolfram and Hart. Xander sat at the table, while Andrew stood pouring cereal into a bowl. "What do we know about this one, anyway?" Xander asked.  
Andrew shrugged. "Emily Druger...lives in western Sacramento...she's the last one in California, too, and then we're off to Nevada...middle class family...public high school...Jane average chick, really," Andrew said.  
"Except that now she can fight vampires," Xander corrected.  
"Exactomundo," Andrew replied.  
"So how do we get to Jane-average-vamp killer?" Xander asked. "Preferably without the massive neck injuries this time."  
"Kidnap?" Andrew suggested.  
"You're not evil anymore," Xander reminded him.  
"Right...kidnap?" Andrew asked.  
"You're not stupid, either," Xander said. "No, wait, maybe you are."  
"Arguing is not going to help our cause!" Andrew shouted.  
"We have no cause! Just a list of mess ups longer than your brain waves!" Xander shouted back.  
The door opens, admitting a young woman in her twenties. "I must say, even with the whole TK thing, I can hear you guys all the way down the hall."  
Both Xander and Andrew took up defensive positions. "I told you to lock the door!" Xander yelled.  
"I did!" Andrew yelled back.  
"He did!" Bethany said. "I don't bother with locks much - too fragile - but I do break them a lot. So, could I ask how you fine gentlemen are getting on with your assignment?"  
"Who are you?" Xander asked, still hiding behind the kitchen counter.  
"I'm Bethany Chaulk. I work for Wolfram and Hart, now." Bethany felt like eating her words. "Who'd have guessed that it would really turn out like that?"  
Xander and Andrew relaxed by perhaps a hair upon finding out who Bethany's employers were. Angel ran an improved Wolfram and Hart. Which basically meant that they weren't completely evil anymore; just partially. Every other day, maybe?  
"What is your purpose for disturbing our humble abode?" Andrew asked.  
"Humble abode?" Bethany asked. "Okay, maybe I'll just talk to the one who speaks English. Angel sent me. He told me to find out how well you're doing at your assignment. Finding new Slayers? Does that not ring a bell or two?"  
Xander stood slowly. "You can tell him we're doing shitty." He sighed. Andrew also raised himself up. "We've botched two cases so far, and we're working on the third."  
"Hey, third time's the charm, you know," Bethany said. "Keep it up. You'll get there someday."  
She left.  
"Angel employ's the weirdest people," Andrew said.  
"You not least amongst them," Xander said.  
"I'm not employed by Angel," Andrew said.  
"Yeah," Xander said. "Getting back onto our previous subject...how do we convince a teenage girl that she's a super hero now?"  
Andrew started to say the word 'kidnap' again, but shut his mouth about halfway through. "Introduce her to Angel?" Andrew suggested.  
Xander was about to tell Andrew how stupid he was when he stopped. "That's not such a bad idea," he said, surprise echoing in the room.  
"It is?" Andrew asked.  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood outside the DADA room. None was sure of what they'd find on the other side of the door.  
It had been several days since the feast. Ron and Hermione's relationship had seemed a bit strained since then, but through Hermione's forceful character and Ron's slowly eroding stubbornness, they had managed to avoid open confrontation. It worried Harry more than if they'd been fighting; that was normal for them. The silence was deafening sometimes.  
"Well...someone has to go through it sooner or later," Harry said.  
Dead silence.  
"Oh, this is ridiculous," Hermione said. "It's not like he's the bloody Antichrist."  
Harry and Ron both looked at her.  
"He's not! And stop looking at me like that," she added. She pushed the door open.  
All three walked through the open door and looked around. The chamber in which Defense Against the Dark Arts was taught had had many faces, from Lockhart's frivolous decorations to Lupin's interesting creature features.  
Now, though, the walls were completely blank and painted gray. The whole chamber seemed harsher than it ever had.  
They were the first people there, despite having waited outside the door for several minutes. But for the trio of friends, the chamber was completely empty.  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron all took their usual seats at the back of the room. None spoke; there really wasn't anything to say.  
Almost immediately, other students started to flood into the room. They all chatted happily and expectantly; Krum was not unknown at Hogwarts. Male and female alike chatted without reservation toward seeming excited. The only silent ones were Harry, Ron, and Hermione.  
After a moment, everyone began to sit down. When most of the people were either sitting or in the process of sitting down, Viktor Krum entered the room.  
He gazed at the instantly silent room. His gaze held no discernable emotion. He sighed.  
"Vell, if you are going to be so quiet, I suppose ve should get right down to business." He paused. "My name is Viktor Krum. Call me vatever you like; I care not. What I do care about is your education.  
"As you may or may not know, I attended Durmstrang Institute until only recently. My recent exposure to the Dark Arts there, from a former Death-Eater qualifies me for this position.  
"Before ve begin, are there any questions?"  
Every other hand in the room shot up, and seeing the stiff competition, everyone began shouting.  
"None of that!" barked Krum. "Come now, let us have order. You, there, what is your question?" Krum asked, pointing at Seamus Finnigan.  
"Well, sir," Seamus began, surprising himself with the title. "I was wondering why you didn't go into Quidditch. You were a killer player."  
"An excellent choice of words for someone from Durmstrang," Krum said dryly. "I had considered taking up professional Quidditch, but I believed this job to be much more important. Don't you think so?"  
Whether or not Seamus thought so became immaterial as Krum waded through the questions. Several were severely stupid - "Sir, are you really going to teach here?", and "Will you join a Quidditch team anyway?". Then someone hit the jackpot.  
"Sir, what is it that you are going to teach us this year?" asked Dean Thomas.  
Krum paused. The din subsided to hear his answer. "It is the wish of the headmaster of Hogwarts that his students continue the courses of learning begun in their third and fifth years."  
"Curses and dark creatures," Harry muttered. Ron and Hermione nodded.  
"And also..." Krum was obviously having trouble with this. "And also, he wishes for you to learn the use of formerly illegal dark magic."  
Harry wished he'd had a pin on him. The silence that had descended on the room was so complete that he was struck by an urge to test the old adage about hearing a pin drop. Ron slowly raised his hand.  
"Yes?" Krum said.  
"You're going to teach us to do dark magic?" Ron asked.  
Krum nodded. "It is the opinion of Professor Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic that in order to truly understand your foe in the coming days, you must know exactly how he does what he does.  
"Stand up."  
Everyone stood. "Wands out, now," Krum continued. "We're going to start slowly and with the more harmless of the outlawed curses. Now, I believe you have experience with the three Unforgivable Curses?"  
A slight sense of dread filled Harry and his peers. "We will not get into the Unforgivable Curses until much later. However, there are several hundred other curses outlawed by the Ministry of Magic. They carry significantly smaller punishments; the first is called the Llawe-Sceant-Droug curse..."  
Krum launched into an explanation of the curse and its origins. Invented in the mid-fifteenth century, the curse stimulated the brain of the user in strange ways. However, it would eventually cause permanent damage to the user.  
"Sometimes, the Llawe-Sceant-Droug curse can be put upon other people," Krum continued. "Blocking it is fairly simple. Pair off..."  
And so it went. Learning the curse wasn't very difficult - the incantation was short - but controlling it was difficult. Once the incantation was invoked, a cloud of purple gas would be conjured. It took immense concentration to keep the gas from dispersing.  
"That's good," Krum said, walking up and down the rows. "Don't breathe in the gas!"  
Once everyone had managed to conjure the gas, Krum went back to the head of the classroom. "Okay," he said. "Here is the tricky part. Pair off and try to attack each other with your curses; beware of breathing in the gas. It will do strange things to your senses, and it will leave you vulnerable."  
Several unfortunate people did not manage to block the curses and ended up getting hit by it. The first of these was Ron; Hermione's vigor had shoved the cloud down Ron's throat. He collapsed.  
Everyone rushed to Ron's side. Harry reached him first, shortly followed by Krum and Hermione. "Ron! Ron, are you okay?"  
Ron laughed. His eyes had gone completely out of focus, and veins were starting to throb in his eyes. "Awfully pretty room, don't you think?" he asked.  
Harry looked at Krum. Krum swallowed a lump, and, to everyone's amazement, continued teaching. "As you can see, Mr. Weasley is quite vulnerable right now. His senses have all been hyper stimulated, overloading his brain with information. His reasoning centers have been shut down almost completely to guard against damage."  
"Will he be okay?" Hermione asked.  
Krum had ignored Hermione up until then. He looked at her then, right in the eye, and delivered a blow. "More than likely...yes. The curse usually doesn't do much damage the first time, but overuse will cause damage to his cerebral cortex. The effects will wear off..."  
Ron screamed, making everyone jump. "Spiders!" he yelled. "Oh, God, spiders! They're eating me! Help! Help! They're eating me! Oh, it hurts! Make them stop! Spiders! Eating....! Eating me! Please...help..."  
"The effects will wear off in an hour or so," Krum finished. "After that, he'll have an enormous headache, but he'll be back to normal."  
The class remained rooted to the spot, around Ron, who was curled in a fetal position, moaning incoherently about spiders.  
Krum looked around. "Get back to your work."  
There were several disbelieving noises made, but Krum was serious. "Potter. Take Weasley up to the hospital wing."  
Harry nodded. Ron needed someplace to rest this thing off. Harry lifted Ron up and discovered, thankfully, that he was able to walk if directed. He required only minor support.  
Getting him to the hospital wing was not easy. Harry had some inkling of how hacked off Ron was going to be about the whole affair. He didn't want to add any more embarrassment to the situation by running into anyone unnecessarily.  
After what seemed like eons of Ron's mutterings about spiders, they reached the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey was sitting in her office. She came out and, upon seeing Ron, gave a small screech.  
"What happened, Potter?" she asked, directing Ron to a bed.  
"We were in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Ron got hit by a Llawe-Sceant-Droug curse..."  
He'd expected Madame Pomfrey to be shocked by the mention of an illegal curse. Instead, she sighed resignedly. "This new direction we're taking - arming children for war, exposing them to this." She gestured at Ron's curled up form. "It's sickening." Madame Pomfrey's resignation to what was happening was etched in her face as she turned to Harry. "Run along back to class now, Mr. Potter," she said, the sharp note in her voice noticeably missing.  
As Harry left the hospital wing, he heard Madame Pomfrey mutter about how long a year it was going to be. Harry felt very inclined to agree.  
  
Yay! One more chapter in the bag. As always, R/R. No, not rest and relaxation, though with the holiday's a little rest sounds great. Seriously, though, I want to hear what you think. Thanks. Bunker Shorts! 


	19. The Nineteenth Chapter

Yikes! It's almost Christmas and I still have to wrap gifts! And how incredibly minor does that appear next to the people who are taking SAT's now? Ha ha, I laugh at you poor fools. My 93'd percentile kicks your ass. Story time.  
  
Time, as it had a habit of doing, passed on. After a month at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends found themselves falling into a pattern of living akin to those of years gone by. Part of the pattern was the biweekly painfulness of Defense Against the Dark Arts, which had become every students' nightmare. Krum took no pleasure in torturing them, but he seemed to think it necessary.  
Dumbledore seemed to think it necessary as well. In an interview in the Daily Prophet, he'd talked about the militaristic changes at Hogwarts. The two corps of magical soldiers to be garrisoned at Hogwarts had dominated the first few paragraphs. But after that, Dumbledore had talked about the necessary evil of subjecting students to dark magic in order to teach it to them.  
He'd also made several allusions to encouraging students to take up their studies now more than ever, and to practice in their spare time. So it was that Harry Potter found himself back in the Room of Requirement.  
The DA had been risen to almost legendary status the year before, when it had been an illegal sign of defiance against the Ministry. Now, when given the chance to live the legend as DA sign-ups were made public, the people flocked to listen to Harry.  
However, Harry had only accepted thirty people into the core group of the defense group. Anyone who had participated last year was welcomed to come back; even thus, several didn't, Cho included. Harry barely noticed her absence.  
He looked out at his peers. There was so much still that they didn't know...so much he couldn't put into words. He wondered briefly if what Krum was doing was the right approach; giving them the necessary experiences in order to help them understand what they were up against. He discarded the idea; Krum lacked the essential ingredient of hatred.  
"Its good to see so many of you back for another year here at the DA," he began, quoting from the speech Hermione had gone over with him. "As you know, we've had a torrent of people trying to get into the DA, but I haven't allowed them to. I wanted to get a consensus from you all before I started accepting new members."  
Before Harry could continue, the door swung open. "Craig?" Harry asked. He hadn't expected to see the American here, of all places. "What are you doing here?"  
"I heard that there was a defense group meeting here tonight," he said. "The best in England, or something like that. I wanted to test you."  
"Test us?" Harry asked.  
Craig smiled. "That's right," he continued. His teeth bore slightly. "I want a fight. Show me what you've got."  
Harry looked around at his fellow members of the DA. Ginny nodded; she had been itching to show off some of the training she'd done with Faith and Robin and the other newly risen Slayers who had already arrived at Hogwarts. Ron, too, nodded. Hermione seemed unsure, obviously believing that Craig could do little without a wand. Eventually, she nodded as well.  
"Okay," Harry said. "Who amongst us do you want to fight?"  
Craig's vicious smile deepened. He'd always been fiery, but he was beginning to scare Harry with the intensity of his gaze. "All of you," he said.  
"Now wait a moment," Hermione said. "You don't have a wand on you; how could you manage to fight even one of us, let alone all of us?"  
Craig didn't answer. "Shall we begin?" The question was for Harry. Instead of answering the question, Harry raised his wand and yelled, "Stupify!"  
Craig dodged the spell quickly, turning a back handspring that carried him into a crowd of people. He swept a bent hapkido through them that removed each of his wand; the slender wooden objects went airborne, followed closely by Craig.  
Getting the idea that he was serious, the other members of the DA began their own attacks. Craig was too fast for them.  
He ducked under Seamus' stunner, allowing it to fly into Zacharias Smith. Craig used his forward, low thrust figure to uppercut viciously, hitting Seamus' wand and sending it into the air.  
Luna came at him quickly, trying to jinx him. Her jinx's rebounded off the stone floor at his feet, bouncing around the room. Craig leapt into the air in front of Luna, delivering a flip kick to her wand hand. Her wand was quickly dislodged, and she stumbled backwards.  
Neville was waiting for Craig when he landed. It looked as though Neville might overpower Craig with a Flipendo charm, but Craig crouched under it and swept Neville's feet out from under him. Craig caught Neville's wand as it fell.  
Ron and Hermione attacked together, coming at Craig from different angles. Feeling their presence behind him, Craig pushed violently off from the ground, twisted in mid air, and landed on Ron's hands. Clutching Ron's wand between his hands, Craig pushed off again, sending Ron halfway across the room. Craig closed the distance between himself and Hermione before the girl could think. He swept his leg around behind her head and, pressing against the wall, pushed her down. Craig knocked her wand away as she fell.  
Craig landed and surveyed the only two people in the room who were still armed - Harry and Ginny. They didn't speak -they simply attacked. Harry was a good deal quicker than his friends, and Craig had to work to dodge the curses and jinxes. Seeing that it was no use to sit and fire at him, a silent message passed between Harry and Ginny.  
The young Slayer moved in to attack Craig at close range. She swung at him, and he blocked. He hit her with a quick sweep kick that smashed her face towards the ground. She rebounded quickly, ducking down low to try and separate Craig's feet from the ground.  
Craig leapt slightly, reversing his vertical status. He supported himself with his hand as he swept his right leg downward in a powerful kick that caught Ginny in the neck. Disoriented by the blow, she stumbled and fell. Harry charged in and aimed a quick Stunner at Craig, but Craig caught Harry's arm and twisted upward, sending the Stunner into the ceiling. The spell damaged the chamber wall with its force, raining debris down on the combatants.  
Craig, still holding Harry's arm, leaned downward, flipping Harry painfully by the joint in his shoulder. He landed hard, and moaned in pain.  
Craig took a step back and surveyed the room. Not a single member of the DA was still on his or her feet; and in his pocket, Craig had a large collection of the their wands. In his hand, he held Harry's wand.  
His grin, this time, was less vicious and calmer. He seemed sated. "So much for the best defense group in England."  
He turned to go. Harry, though in some pain, rose himself up. "Please don't leave yet," he said.  
Craig turned back. "Was there something you wanted?"  
Harry nodded. "That was amazing," he said. "Could you teach us to do that?"  
Craig hid his excitement with practiced ease. He had hoped for something like this. He knew that Potter could put his embarrassment aside and ask for this; he'd grown up enough to know that.  
"Sure," the American boy said.  
  
Possibly my shortest chapter ever, but oh well, right? I'm terribly sorry about the shortness, but my computer crashed and destroyed about half the chapter. ERGGG!!! Blame Steve Jobs, not me. Anyway, read and review and help poor little me write the next chapter quicker. BUNKER SHORTS WILL RULE THE EARTH! 


	20. The Twentieth Chapter

Originally, the first few sections of this chapter were going to be part of Chapter 19. But due to a computer crash that erased the sections, they were dropped and I just uploaded the last chapter as it was. So here they are now, recreated to the best of my ability. Happy reading to you.  
  
Voldemort stood at the edge of the enormous precipice, his minions lingering a few feet back. They knew not to disturb their master now. The loss of the Sunnydale Hellmouth was almost personal to Voldemort.  
He looked into the vast emptiness of the crater. The Sunnydale Hellmouth was the thing that had started him on his path to greatness. The Albanian Hellmouth, of which he was the only person alive who knew of it, had sustained him in his most dire hour. He had a connection to the gates of hell. And now this one was gone.  
Completely, irrevocably, gone.  
Voldemort's fist clenched. He was angry. Where most men would have felt loss, sadness, or even regret, he only felt anger. Then again, Voldemort was not a man anymore; he was something...other than that, and he no longer was troubled by the petty emotions of men.  
Anger, though...anger he could use. Anger he could focus. And now, he wished to focus his anger on the Slayer. She...all of them...would pay for what they'd done here.  
Soon enough...they would all pay.  
  
Harry attempted to get to sleep, but he failed. He shifted around, looking for that one spot where sleep might come to him. There was nothing in it; he was completely restless.  
Eventually, Harry rose, quietly, from bed and put on a robe. He was headed for the Common Room. Might as well get some homework done if sleep was going to evade him. He shut the door softly, making sure as to not wake up his roommates.  
When he reached the Common Room, Harry was surprised to find Ginny standing, similarly dressed, by the window. "Couldn't sleep?" she asked.  
Harry nodded. He crossed the room to the window and looked out of it with her.  
"I've got a bad feeling," Ginny said. "Like there's something...not right....happening."  
"I know," Harry said. "I feel it too."  
"Are we dreaming?" Ginny asked.  
"I was thinking the same thing," Harry said. "But this isn't a dream, Ginny. This is reality."  
"I suppose you're right," she said. She shivered slightly, and Harry drew his arm around her.  
They stood like that for a long time, just watching the grounds. There was nothing there, but they stared anyway.  
Eventually, Harry sat down on the couch and leaned back, feeling the effects of a long day at last. Ginny joined him a second later, resting her head against his shoulder. They were asleep almost before they realized what was happening.  
  
Dumbledore sat in his office, watching the monitor in the wall. He liked to know when students were in their Common Room's past midnight; usually he didn't mind, but on the rare occasion that he did, it was nice to know.  
Now, he watched as Harry and Ginny fell asleep. "It's rather amusing, how the bond has manifested itself in them," he said. "It's why they keep sleeping with one another, apparently inadvertently."  
"That's a cold way of putting it," Craig said. "They're in love, Professor."  
"Yes, but it isn't the same, normal kind of love that most people experience. There love is magically binding them to each other. You, above all, should know what that's like."  
"Yeah," Craig said. "And that's why you brought me here, isn't it? So that I could teach them about the bond. Show them where Skye and I went wrong."  
"You're a clever boy, Craig," Dumbledore said. "Yes, I did bring you to Hogwarts to help Harry and Ginny. That bond between them, and the power they could share...without it, we're lost."  
"I'll help them as much as I can," Craig said. "But in the end, its up to them..."  
"Yes, it is," Dumbledore said. He looked back at the monitor where Harry and Ginny were sleeping peacefully.  
The both sat and stared for a long time.  
  
Faith and Dumbledore stood in front of the barracks. The commander of the forces to operate out of Hogwarts was due to arrive in a half hour.  
"You have undoubtedly heard about all the disappearances," Dumbledore said, abruptly.  
"Yeah," Faith said. "Harry and Ginny mentioned a few."  
"You've been spending a lot of time with Harry and Ginny?" Dumbledore asked, surprised.  
"Yes," Faith said. "Ginny is a Slayer, after all. And Harry...well, even if he isn't gonna just blurt it out to everyone around him, you can still tell he's special."  
"He really is," Dumbledore said. "But the disappearances...they're the things that worry me."  
"Why so much? I don't mean to be cynical, but weren't you expecting this?"  
"Yes, but not to this degree," Dumbledore sighed. He felt like leaning against the barracks wall for support. "Voldemort has been killing more people faster than the last time he was in power. He's taking three people every week, and many of them have left body parts behind, too, which is entirely unusual."  
"Why?" Faith asked.  
"Because when Voldemort kills, there is nothing left but a body that appears in good health, except for the fact that it is dead," Dumbledore said, and proceeded to explain the Avada Kedavra curse.  
"Creepy," Faith said, bordering on uninterested, when Dumbledore was finished. "So why isn't he using this curse?"  
"I don't know," Dumbledore said. "I was hoping that when Buffy arrives back we could have a little chat and see if we can't figure out a way to figure out what Lord Voldemort has been doing - ah, here they are at last."  
A goblin, riding a broom, had descended to below the cloud level. A moment later, several hundred other brooms, each carrying a goblin or a wizard, descended as well.  
"How many are there, now?" Faith asked.  
"Well, after all the unnecessary redirecting of our forces done by our illustrious Minister," Dumbledore almost sneered at the word, "we have received a full hundred less than previously expected. So that numbers our new garrison in the low hundreds, around three hundred or so."  
Faith nodded. The brooms had begun to land, their passengers dismounting. They looked a bit worn.  
"Doesn't seem like they had a good trip," Faith observed, as she and Dumbledore began to walk towards the goblin leader.  
"The trip took around sixteen hours, what with all the little loops and twirls they had to do to 'throw the Dark Forces off their scent'. More of Fudge's doing. Utter nonsense."  
They had reached the goblin. He was taller than his fellows, rising to be almost as tall as Faith. She looked him in the eye, but saw only blankness. She blinked. He smiled.  
"Good evening and well met, Grimshar," Dumbledore said, putting a hand on the goblin's shoulder.  
A throaty rasp of a voice replied. "Good evening and well met, Dumbledore."  
"Grimshar, I would like you to meet Faith, one of the Slayers I told you about. Faith, this is Grimshar the Aggressive," Dumbledore said, by means of introduction.  
"I don't bother much with the title," Grimshar said. "Gives people the wrong idea about me."  
"I'm sure," Faith said, lightly, not wanting to offend the goblin.  
"If you'll come this way, I'll show you the barracks. They're quite comfortable," Dumbledore said.  
"I'm sure they are," Grimshar replied. "Probably too comfortable. We're soldiers, Dumbledore, and we're here to fight a war, not to have Four Star Service."  
Faith chuckled. She liked Grimshar so far - he was a warrior, and she could respect that.  
The goblin turned back to the field, where his men were getting their gear in order. "Everyone, as soon as you are done getting your gear into place, move into the barracks. You will be assigned a bunk once there."  
He turned back to Dumbledore. "So, any news for me?"  
"None," Dumbledore said, resuming their trek towards the barracks. "You already know about the disappearances, and what Mr. Fudge is doing about them."  
"Yes, sir, I do," Grimshar said.  
"I've talked with the Slayers, and once we have all of them back, I intend to see if we can't find out what Voldemort is up to."  
"Sounds good," Grimshar replied. "When you need anything from us, just let me know."  
Dumbledore smiled. "Of course. Now I'll let you get settled in."  
Grimshar nodded and entered the barracks, his men and goblins following.  
"He's rather taciturn, even for a goblin," Dumbledore said.  
"I'd never have noticed," Faith said sarcastically.  
Soon enough, the army forces had disappeared inside the barracks. Faith nodded at Dumbledore and was about to enter as well, to head for her room, when the older man caught her arm.  
"Faith, when is Buffy planning on getting back?" Dumbledore asked.  
"Give her two weeks," Faith said. "Things have been going better than anybody expected. Willow and Kennedy are on their way back now. So are Andrew and Xander. Buffy still has a few things to rap up here and there."  
Dumbledore nodded. "Good night, Faith," he said.  
They departed.  
  
Giles and Shannon stood in front of a dilapidated building. The place was a complete dump; the neighborhood it sat in was terrible.  
"Well, this is it," Shannon said. "The last one."  
"Yes," Giles said, eyeing the building. "Let's just get it over with, shall we?"  
They entered the building, pushing aside the door, which was not on its hinges. The sight that met their eyes made Giles want to be sick. It didn't hit Shannon quite as much, but then, she was an American teenager, and somewhat used to drug use.  
There were people lying on the floor of the house. They stared in different directions, not at anything in particular, most with glazed eyes.  
Fighting down an urge to vomit at the disgusting state of the human beings before him, Giles said, "We're looking for a girl named Maria Grieta. We were given this address."  
One of the girls raised herself up off the floor, revealing her lack of clothing, which did not improve Giles' disposition, and served to unnerve Shannon. "That's me," the girl said. Her eyes were somewhat clearer than the rest, but she still grinned in utter bemusement at them.  
"Umm...well, I don't know how to say this..." Shannon said, despite all the practice she'd had at explaining Slayerdom to all the new recruits. "But...well, you're kind of a superhero."  
"Tactful," Giles muttered, and Shannon sent him a dirty look.  
"We're all superheroes here," one of the men said. "We're gonna save the world...wee..." he collapsed and began snoring loudly.  
Maria stood up. She was a bit wobbly, but she managed to keep her balance. "What do you want?" she asked. Her bemused grin didn't fade.  
"We're here to inquire as to whether or not you would like to join other girls like you in a training program in England," Giles blurted out.  
"Tactful," Shannon said, and Giles ignored her.  
"England?" Maria asked.  
"Well, yes," Giles said.  
"Sounds cool," Maria said, her bemused grin fading slightly. "But wait outside while I get decent."  
Once back on the street, Giles rubbed his hands together to keep warm. "Get decent? It was a bit late for that, don't you think?"  
"Giles...are you sure about her?" Shannon asked.  
"Of course I'm not sure!" Giles said, exasperated. "What is there to be sure of?"  
"That she's a pot head," Shannon said.  
"Yes, there is that," Giles admitted.  
"I don't trust her," Shannon said.  
"Well, you don't have to," Giles said. "Our job is to get her to come with us. Once that's done, we'll figure out what to do with her."  
Maria emerged a moment later, her eyes no longer glazed, wearing a baggy sweatshirt and a pair of old, worn out jeans. "Lets go save the world," she said.  
"Oh, boy," Giles and Shannon said in tangent.  
  
  
Two weeks passed, and the Slayers began arriving back at Hogwarts. It was luck that saw that they arrived back at the same time that the barracks were being completed, giving them a place to sleep.  
Buffy arrived back on October 30th, the day before Halloween. She was the last of the Slayers to arrive back, since she wanted to get in and be able to take a complete head count. Each team had brought with them the new Slayers that they had managed to recruit.  
Buffy arrived alone, unceremoniously. She carried a bag slung across her shoulder that contained all that she traveled with. The only two people who knew that she was getting back that night were Faith and Giles.  
They were waiting for her when she got up to the barracks. Giles, dispensing with his usual dignity, hugged Buffy. "It's good to see you again," he said.  
Faith contented herself with a nod and smile. "Good to see you again, B."  
Buffy cut right to the point. "How did we do?" she asked.  
Giles handed her a folder. "We contacted five hundred twelve newly risen Slayers," he said. "Of those, four hundred ninety-three decided to come to Hogwarts. They're inside now." He gestured inside the barracks door.  
Buffy drew in her breath. She'd sent several of these Slayers here herself, and of course she knew the thirty or so 'originals', so this wouldn't be such a gigantic mass of unknowns.  
It was a gigantic mass of unknowns.  
When they walked inside the barracks, once again astounding Buffy with its size, Giles hit a button on the wall and held it. "Everyone report down to the Briefing Room right now," he said. His voice, magically magnified, echoed through the barracks. Slayers began exiting their rooms, heading down to hallways towards a room at the back of the building. Even though she had heard the numbers, Buffy wasn't completely prepared for the amount of people she saw.  
"I'm guessing you know what you want to say?" Buffy asked, her voice taking on a shrill note that didn't seem natural.  
"I have an idea," Giles said, smiling.  
"Good," Buffy said. "Cause my mind is going seriously 'bye bye'."  
Faith laughed. "You were pretty good at this back in Sunnydale," she observed.  
"That was somewhat different."  
Guessing what was going on, the Scooby's opted to travel to the entrance to the barracks rather than to the briefing room. There was a series of 'hello's' and hugs.  
"Come on," Giles said. "They'll be waiting for you."  
They entered the Briefing Room through the side door. Seated in the hall were nearly five hundred young Slayers. Buffy felt herself panic slightly and fought it down quicker than most would have noticed.  
Giles made her introduction. "You've all been brought here because of your common gift. You're all Slayers - albeit a bit new at it. This is Buffy Summers. Many of you have already heard of her, probably. She will be your leader here, and your teacher as well. She's been a Slayer for more nine years now - longer than any Slayer before her. You can learn a lot from her. But don't take my word for it. Listen to her."  
Giles motioned for Buffy to step forward. She addressed them. "Hello, everyone. I realize that this is a new experience for all of you. Its probably more than a little frightening. I know; I went through that fear once, too. But you don't have to go through it alone. Welcome to Hogwarts."  
There was applause. Willow grinned at Buffy. "You're getting good at those," she said.  
Buffy smiled too. She went forward to introduce herself personally to all the new Slayers.  
  
Faith searched the crowd and finally found Ginny. "How'd you get down here quick enough?" Faith asked.  
"Floo," Ginny said. "Dumbledore set up a specific gateway for the three of us at the school so that we can get down here for meetings and such. Its going to annoy my roommates quite a bit."  
Faith looked around. "Amazing," she said.  
"There are a lot of them," Ginny observed. "Excuse me; a lot of us."  
Just then, Dumbledore entered the room. Faith started over towards him automatically, then stopped. "You want to tag along?" she asked Ginny.  
"Sure," Ginny said, secretly thrilled at the opportunity to get information before Harry. She would enjoy holding it over his head.  
The two made their way quickly through the room. Dumbledore didn't see them. He was, instead, focused on Buffy. He reached her, and before greeting her, said, "We have a problem."  
  
Dumbledore, Buffy, Giles, Faith, and Ginny all exited the room. They headed towards the private meeting room off of Buffy's chamber. They entered quickly, not wanting to be followed.  
"What's wrong?" Buffy asked.  
Dumbledore was in a completely different state then either Buffy or Faith had ever seen. Ginny had only seen him like that once; at the Ministry the spring before.  
"One of my spies reported back today," he said. "He'd been gone for nearly a week and I'd begun to worry about him. But the news he brought me worries me even more."  
He took a deep breath. "As we know, Voldemort already has an army of a decent size. But he plans to gather to him an enormous army of vampires. He is using all the people he has captured to create a lake of blood for them to feed on. He has put a spell on the lake sight to keep the blood fresh."  
Ginny stifled a noise of disgust. "That's not all," Dumbledore said. "It turns out that Voldemort is planning a ritualistic spell that will make the lake of blood self-replenishing."  
"A never ending supply of fresh blood in a huge, easily accessible location," Buffy said. "He'd have every vampire in the world at his beck and call."  
"We can't allow that to happen," Dumbledore said. "The lake is in the middle of an Albanian forest, where Voldemort is basing much of his action."  
"Then lets hit it," Buffy said.  
"It's not that simple," Dumbledore said. "There is something strange about the forest. Only a select few people have ever been able to enter it and leave again. Many others have mysteriously disappeared there. It turns out that only people with darkness in their souls may enter the forest and return from it."  
Silence followed Dumbledore's words. Faith laughed without mirth. "Sounds like I'm in," she said.  
"I'll give Angel a call, too," Buffy said. "Willow might be able to do it, too."  
"Me too," a voice from the doorway said.  
"Ah, Lupin," Dumbledore said. "Mr. Giles, Buffy, Faith, I would like to introduce you to Remus Lupin."  
"Pleased to make your acquaintance." Giles said.  
"Likewise," Lupin replied.  
"So how can you get into this place?" Faith asked, bluntly. "How is your soul dark?"  
"I'm a werewolf," he said. "It kind of goes with the territory."  
"My spy will want to go as well," Dumbledore said. "Severus Snape is a former servant of Lord Voldemort who betrayed the Dark Side to rejoin us."  
"And you trust him?" Giles asked.  
Before Dumbledore could say anything, Faith jumped in. "You trust me?" she asked.  
Giles shut up.  
"Five? Is that it?" Buffy asked.  
"Craig may want to go along too," Dumbledore said. "His...gift...makes him eligible for this."  
"Six, then," Buffy said. "You'll go in, covert, and see if you can't disrupt this ritual thing."  
"I'll talk to the others tomorrow," Dumbledore said. "Remus, your quarters are this way."  
The meeting broke up, leaving Buffy with a windswept feeling. It was happening fast. It always did.  
  
TWENTY CHAPTERS! Please, oh please, read and review. Its incredibly important to me to hear your feedback. I need feedback in order to go on writing. Get me? Bunker shorts be with you. 


	21. The TwentyFirst Chapter

Harry received the message on Halloween morning, before he even got a chance to climb out of bed. Actually, in a manner of speaking, the message got him.  
Harry awoke with an enormous face staring right in the eye. Harry yelled, springing up, and throwing Dobby off his bed.  
"Dobby! God, haven't I told you not to do that?" Harry asked, irritably.  
"I's sorry, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said. "But Professor Dumbledore has given Dobby a message for Harry Potter, and Dobby forgot himself in delivering it!"  
Harry sighed and attempted, for a moment, to stay angry at the house elf. He couldn't, and his face broke into a grin.  
"How have you been, Dobby?" Harry asked. Then the guilt hit him. "I'm sorry I haven't been down to see you..."  
"I is okay, sir," Dobby said, waving off Harry's apology and causing his enormous jumble of clothing to wobble. "But what's important, sir, is this message..."  
Dobby handed Harry a slip of parchment. Harry took it, and Dobby backed up immediately. "I must be going, sir," he said. "Tis a big day, and the other elves needs all the help they can get, sir."  
"I promise that I'll come and visit you," Harry said, as Dobby bowed and left. Harry looked at the parchment in his hand. It was folded in two, with his name printed neatly, in...Harry gulped...Dumbledore's handwriting.  
What was so important that Dumbledore had sent a messenger and not awaited Harry's arrival at breakfast? Harry began examining possibilities. An Order member had died...but that wasn't urgent, just tragic...an Order member was very hurt and was probably about to die...more likely, but wouldn't Ron get a message too, since he knew the members of the Order better than he, Harry, did?  
After a moment of thinking, Harry unfolded the paper and read.  
  
//Harry,  
Mr. Fudge is coming today to make an inspection of Hogwarts. He wants to make sure we're prepared to deal with any crisis that may arise. I am, of course, going to indulge him and make him think that I still take him seriously.  
I want you there Harry. If for nothing else than to give you the satisfaction of watching him sweat. Please get dressed and proceed, immediately, to the Great Hall. By the time you receive this message, Mr. Fudge will be well on his way by this time.  
He's all yours, Harry.  
Professor Dumbledore//  
  
Harry grinned. He realized, just for an instant, that he was seeing something people very rarely saw - Dumbledore's malicious side. Well, the man deserved his revenge on Fudge.  
And so did Harry. After all Fudge did to make Harry's life hell, this was going to be sweet.  
Harry dressed quickly, taking care not to wake his roommates, who weren't due up for nearly another hour, and raced himself down to the Great Hall.  
When he got there, Dumbledore was waiting. "Good to see you could make it, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Looking forward to this?"  
Harry felt the small part of him that was still a child stir. "Yes, sir," he said, with a grin.  
They waited in silence after that. Two minutes later, Buffy, Faith and Grimshar arrived. Dumbledore introduced Harry to the goblin, and they shook hands, Harry looking a bit wary, but otherwise unconcerned.  
They waited a few minutes, and eventually, Fudge arrived. He pushed open the doors, flanked by two Aurors Harry didn't recognize.  
"You are two minutes and sixteen seconds late, Minister," Dumbledore said.  
Fudge, who was just forming the words involved in greeting someone, sputtered slightly. He looked like he might get angry at Dumbledore, but he quickly deflated and took the slight insult.  
"We got held up a bit," he said.  
Before Dumbledore could begin talking again, Harry stepped forward. Fudge visibly flinched.  
"How are you, Minister?" Harry asked, his voice dripping with the same acid he usually heard from Snape. "Accepting the truth improve your disposition at all?"  
Fudge bristled. He couldn't yell at Dumbledore. He could yell at Harry Potter. "I always have accepted the truth!"  
"Then what did you call last year?" Harry spat back.  
"There was insufficient evidence to conclude that You-Know-Who was back..."  
"Yeah," Harry said. "My word was insufficient."  
"Well, it was!" Fudge shouted. "All you did was say, and didn't show any proof!"  
"Professor Snape's Mark!" Harry yelled right back, feeling his anger leave him more and more with each word. "Cedric! And then the disappearances!"  
Fudge sputtered again. "I...the Ministry needed more specific...there wasn't enough to see...I...we..."  
Harry found that his anger was gone. Buffy, on the other hand, was no less confused than she had been when the argument began.  
"Perhaps I should have warned you against Mister Fudge's ignorance before hand," Dumbledore said to Buffy and Faith, not bothering to lower his voice.  
"Mighta helped," Faith said.  
"Yeah," Buffy said, pointedly.  
Grimshar said nothing. His face was professionally blank.  
Fudge stood, mouthing wordlessly as Harry had watched him do right after the Triwizard Tournament's violent conclusion.  
"Would you like to get the tour over with, Minister?" Dumbledore asked.  
"Oh, yes, definitely," Fudge said. He only noticed Dumbledore's wording a moment later. The Minister of Magic frowned, but said nothing.  
Dumbledore began by introducing Fudge to Faith and Buffy. The Minister made his hasty greetings; he seemed to be somewhere else completely.  
"Well, it might have been nice if you'd consulted the Ministry before agreeing to accommodate these...Slayers..." Fudge muttered.  
"I'm sure that the Ministry would have come up with an excellent way to explain away the existence of Slayers, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. Fudge ignored this. Dumbledore sighed.  
"Well, let's begin the tour. Grimshar, if you'll get the door for the honorable Minister," Dumbledore said. Harry wondered if any of the others could really hear the note of sarcasm in Dumbledore's voice.  
Grimshar lead the way out of the Great Hall. The tour turned out to be a true anticlimax; Fudge insisted on seeing the barracks only. He peeked inside the first one, and before anyone else could enter, he came right back out. "Looks all right," he said. "Up to code...at least..."  
After ten minutes of travel and incredibly brief peeks inside the barracks, Fudge declared that he'd seen enough. "Really, Dumbledore, I...trust...in your ability to manage things," Fudge said.  
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "You do, Cornelius?" he asked. "All of your yelling about my senility last year could have convinced me to the contrary."  
"Circumstances were different then...oh, drat it, I don't have to explain myself to you!" Fudge burst out. Dumbledore's eyebrow raised further.  
"If you've seen all that you care to see, Minister," Dumbledore said, "then I would suggest you leave. I'm sure you have a lot of important business back in London."  
"I have one more question!" Fudge said. His anger didn't seem gone. "The American boy, Craig. Where is he?"  
Dumbledore blanched. It wasn't big, and it probably wasn't noticeable to people who didn't know him, but Harry saw it. "Craig is not here at the moment," Dumbledore said.  
"Then where is he?" Fudge asked. "I want to see him."  
"Craig comes and goes as he pleases here," Dumbledore said. "He will not be scrutinized by you."  
"Dumbledore, I may have been wrong," Fudge admitted. He didn't seem aware of the fact that he'd just admitted an imperfection, because he went on. "But you still have to answer to the Ministry. And the Department of Mysteries is very interested in that boy..."  
"Mister Fudge, Craig is my guest here," Dumbledore said. "You will not take him back to your Ministry and you will not dissect him. He doesn't, and never has, wanted to be put under your...observation."  
Craig, who had been tailing them and keeping his presence unknown, stepped out of the shadows just then. "I'd say 'boo!', but it's a bit clichŽ," he said, dryly. Fudge jumped anyway.  
"Craig, you needn't be here," Dumbledore said.  
"Well, I heard you making all this fuss over me, and I thought I might come out and see for myself the man who wants to have me cut open so he and his little lab coats can play with my insides."  
Everyone seemed a bit taken aback by this speech. Craig, himself, had to suck in a large breath, because he delivered the whole thing in one breath.  
"You're Craig?" Fudge managed, eventually.  
"You figured that one out all by yourself!" Craig said. "Tell me, back at your Ministry, do they give you a cookie whenever you manage that?"  
"He seems rather hostile," Fudge said, looking for equality to Dumbledore, who only snorted.  
"You have spent the past year denying the existence of the man responsible for the deaths of every friend Craig has ever had," Dumbledore said. "I don't blame him for his hostility."  
"While you were sitting back at your desk, in all your blissful ignorance, the only person who's ever loved me...the only person I've ever loved...was being murdered, brutally, by a man you denied the existence of. And now, as soon as I get to your country, you start making noise about 'finding out what makes the voices inside my head say what they say'. Well, I don't think so, Jeeves. You can take that hypocrisy of yours and shove it."  
Fudge looked windswept by the vehemence of Craig's words. "Well," he said. His voice had taken on an unnaturally high squeak. He cleared his throat. "Well, I guess that about does it. I'll be heading back to the London now. Good-bye, Dumbledore," and he left. Fled might have been a better word for it.  
Dumbledore looked at Craig, who still seethed. "Can I have a word with you, in my office?" he asked.  
"Yes," Craig said. Before he left, he turned to Harry. "I'll see you this afternoon," he said. Harry nodded.  
Dumbledore and Craig left, leaving Harry, Faith, Buffy, and Grimshar alone outside the barracks.  
"So...does anyone want to explain all that?" Buffy asked.  
Grimshar didn't seem forthcoming about it. Of course, thought Buffy. Soldiers don't speak ill of their commanding officers. Harry, instead, launched into an explanation of the rise of Voldemort and Fudge's reaction. When he was done, Grimshar nodded once, not acknowledging anything, while still agreeing with Harry.  
"Sounds a lot like a certain Watcher's Council we used to know," Faith said. "They were pretty good at screwing things up, too."  
"You explained Fudge," Buffy said. "But what was that bit about Craig? I mean, okay," she shrugged. "He's more than just an average fighter. But why does Fudge want to...dissect him?"  
"You weren't told?" Harry asked.  
"Obviously not," Grimshar put in, his first words spoken since being introduced to Harry.  
Harry considered what to do. On the one hand, Harry believed that if Grimshar, who obviously already knew, had been told, then so should Buffy and Faith. On the other hand, though, there was Craig's privacy.  
Harry was rescued by Grimshar, oddly enough. "The boy can hear dead people," he said, almost bored. "In his head."  
Faith looked at Buffy. Buffy looked at Faith. And, almost in synchronization, they burst out laughing. "Oh, I'm sorry," Buffy said. "Dead people? 'Oh, I see dead people!' Oh, that's great! Does he know Bruce Willis?"  
Grimshar raised a metaphorical eyebrow. "He can hear the voices of dead people, screaming, relentlessly, in his head, telling him how they died. Some of them were people he knew. Some of them were people he couldn't save, and he can't just make their screams go away."  
The laughter died instantly, leaving a stale echo on the air.  
"I suppose you've never had anyone die on you?" Grimshar asked. He was getting upset, or as upset as the goblin could allow himself to get.  
"I'm sorry," Buffy said. It sounded inadequate even in her head.  
"And that's why the Ministry of Magic wants him," Grimshar finished, returning to his almost-bored near-monotone. "The people at the Department of Mysteries want to cut his head open and find out where the voices are coming from and why he can hear them."  
"Ouch," Faith said, proving that Buffy had not quite cornered the market on inadequacy with her previous statement.  
They stood in silence for a moment. Grimshar eventually left, without a word of farewell. Faith and Buffy followed, talking about how much of a waste of a Saturday morning the inspection had been. Harry left for the Great Hall, intent on breakfast and a good laugh over Fudge with Ron, Hermione and Ginny.  
As he walked, Harry wondered what Dumbledore and Craig were discussing.  
  
"I asked you not to come," Dumbledore said. "He could have made a scene and tried to remove you from the grounds."  
Craig sat in the same seat he'd sat in the night he and the Headmaster had observed Harry and Ginny. "I wanted to meet him," Craig said simply. "I've heard a ton about the creep, and I thought that maybe a good heart-to-heart would convince me that he isn't a complete toad."  
Dumbledore couldn't help but smile, but Craig seemed unaware of the humor. His smile slipping a bit, Dumbledore addressed Craig again. "And was you opinion changed?" he asked.  
"Nope," Craig said. "The guy is a complete toad."  
Dumbledore paused there. He agreed with Craig, of course, but he wasn't going to say it, not while the boy was supposed to be in trouble.  
"Craig, there is something I wanted to talk to you about..." Dumbledore said.  
"Besides my opinion of Wart-Man?" Craig asked.  
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "We have reason to believe that Voldemort is building an army...an army of vampires. In a forest in Albania. Only a select few people amongst us can enter the forest, and you're one of those select few."  
"What can I do to help?" Craig asked.  
"I'm going to have a meeting about it after the feast tonight," Dumbledore said. "With any luck, another of my spies will arrive this afternoon, and we can formulate a real plan. Until then, I just want you to know that this is a big risk, and possibly a hopeless risk."  
"So?" Craig asked. "I could safely eat hopeless for breakfast after what happened in June. Pass me the salt, I'm ready for some tough, flavorless hopeless."  
Dumbledore finally laughed, breaking the tension almost to the point of a smile from Craig. Almost. "I'll see you at nine o'clock tonight," Dumbledore said. "You are meeting Harry this afternoon?" Dumbledore asked.  
"DA," Craig explained. "Potter asked me to teach his class a couple things about hand to hand combat."  
"And you are holding a meeting on Halloween?" Dumbledore asked.  
"Don't see why not," Craig said. "The feast isn't until six, and they all got the day off from class, so...bring on the violence."  
"Be careful with them," Dumbledore said. "You're not used to teaching others to fight."  
"Maybe if I had taught some others to fight, some others wouldn't have gone up in smoke with the AWA," Craig said, bitterness swiping its claws across his face once more.  
"Is that what this teaching is about?" Dumbledore asked. "Don't let it be. You can do good here, Craig. You just have to live for the future, and not the past."  
"The past made me what I am today," Craig said.  
"You made yourself what you are today, Craig," Dumbledore said. "You can help them make themselves into something else - something better than what they are."  
"Yeah, and something deader, too," the younger boy replied.  
"Such a tangled web you live in," Dumbledore said, sympathetically. "You think that involving them with you is bad luck - that it will get them killed. But at the same time, you think that without your guidance, they'll die."  
"So what do I do?" Craig asked.  
Dumbledore leaned forward, the fire in his eyes becoming more pronounced then ever. "Let them get to know you!" he hissed, low but forcefully. "Get to know them! And you might find, Craig, that they can help you far more than you can help yourself."  
Dumbledore had grabbed Craig by the shoulders part of the way through this speech. He now released the younger man. "You may go, Craig," he said.  
"Thanks," Craig said, and he left.  
Dumbledore wondered for what Craig was thanking him.  
  
Craig stood in the Room of Requirement, looking at the DA. They all were focused on him, and he felt the tiniest squirm of nervousness. It never even made it into his conscious mind, but it was there, nonetheless.  
Craig held up a goblet. "What is this?" Craig asked.  
The crowd looked at each other, unsure of to whom the question was addressed. "Anyone," Craig said. "Don't like this one? Okay," he picked up a branch. "What is this?"  
Hermione hesitantly raised her hand. "You're wrong," Craig said, without even addressing her. "You were going to tell me this is a branch, right? Well, as of right now, stop believing that. No branch here, okay?"  
The DA was becoming more confused. "Reality as you seem to have accepted it doesn't work like this," Craig explained. "Its not just, 'branch' or 'cup'. You've done transfiguration, yes? You know that this can become something else entirely with barely a thought."  
The branch began to writhe in Craig's hands, as though it were alive. "You see, reality is a lot more flexible then you think it is. You see magic everyday, and you accept that it works, without questioning your reality. Why should you? But here," he looked down at the branch, which was now a snake. "Here, you see that it doesn't take all of the magic words to bend reality. If you believe strong enough in yourself, then it just will."  
Craig sprang from the space where he'd been speaking and hit the ceiling. He didn't fall, however. He stayed there. And he stood up to his full height. On the ceiling.  
"You see? No words, no wand, nothing but you and the magic in the air around you."  
He turned a flip and landed on the floor again. "That's how I beat you," he said. "I believed that I could move that fast. Granted, it took a lot of concentration, and years of practice. This isn't an overnight thing. If you believe, than you can open the door, but you're the one who has to have the strength to walk through it."  
Craig looked around at the eager faces. He heard the voices well up inside him. Then they subsided. He smiled. "Everyone pick up a stick," he said.  
They all obliged. "Focus on your stick," Craig said. "You have to feel your magic working around you. No words, no wands. Just use the raw power in the air around you...channel it through you..."  
Half an hour later, none of them had gotten it, and Craig was beginning to get worried. What if he couldn't teach this to them? Whistler had taught him to bend the stupid stick in minutes.  
And then...a miracle. Actually, Neville screamed and dropped his stick. Craig rushed over to him, to see what was the matter, and...the stick moved on the ground. It looped itself around and around, coiling into a spring, which bounced against one of the walls and finally lay still.  
Craig smiled. "Did you feel it, Neville?" he asked.  
"I did," Neville said, shock on his face and in his voice. "I really did. I still can."  
"And how did it feel?" Craig asked.  
"It felt good," Neville said, grinning. "It felt really, really good."  
They continued, the rest of the DA inspired by Neville's triumphant springy thing. Before long, others were having their branches move, as well. But only a few.  
Harry and Ginny were amongst those who did manage to move their branches. Ron's twitched a bit, but beyond that, nothing serious. Hermione's didn't budge the whole time. She asked Neville how he'd done it.  
"I don't think I can explain," Neville said. "I was focusing on it, and I was trying to make it move, and that didn't work. So I focused on the branch, just as it was, and on myself, just as I am, and on everything at once, and suddenly, I felt it. I felt it in my blood. It was the most wonderful feeling ever. I think...I think it was complete knowledge of something."  
Craig overheard this. He hid his grin.  
  
After more than an hour of bending branches, the DA dispersed, promising to go through all the mental exercises Craig had taught them. Harry and Craig remained behind, Harry promising Ginny that he would meet her back in the Common Room before the feast.  
Harry turned to Craig. He decided to just spit it all out. "Craig, how did you get to be like this?" he asked.  
Craig took it in stride. "Like how?"  
"Like, you can turn a stick into a snake just by looking at it, and you can beat up an entire defense club single-handedly."  
"Oh," Craig said. "That. Well, its kind of a long story, and I wouldn't want to bore you, or keep your girl waiting..." he saw the look on Harry's face. "Okay, fine then, I'll tell you.  
"The voices started even yelling at me even before I can remember. They've probably been with me since I was born, I wouldn't know. But my earliest memories are of my surrogate father and trainer, Whistler, trying to teach me ways to block out the pain.  
"See, I'm the king of hobbies. Anything to distract me from the voices, I'd do it. They would have driven me completely insane otherwise. I embraced everything that could bring my attention away. Most of all, I embraced the martial arts, particularly a Brazilian discipline, called capoiera.  
"I learned them all, and I spent some time in a demon dimension renowned for helping people to hone their skills...or die trying. I got good - real good. I was the equal of a Slayer.  
"And all the time, I had the grand purpose in mind."  
"What?" Harry asked. "What is the grand purpose?"  
"Was," Craig said. "I was going to defend Sunnydale. The Hellmouth. I was going to move in and use all these incredible fighting skills and concentration to keep the baddies from ending the world. I was all set. Everything was going perfectly.  
"Then Buffy didn't die.  
"I didn't really want her to die, mind you," Craig said. "It was just a part of the plan. And I didn't really want her to go and screw up my life. But she did. I don't feel too bad about it now, though. I'd have never met Skye..."  
Harry saw Craig start to drift off into memory lane. He tried to bring the American back. "So in a way, Buffy gave you the chance to live your own life, and make your own decisions."  
Craig laughed, still looking a bit far away. "If only that were true," he said. "I went to the AWA, after Buffy lived. I could. The Hellmouth didn't need a protector. I lived there for six years. I was happy there. I met a girl named Skye. I fell in love with her.  
"And Voldemort killed her."  
Harry and Craig sat in silence for a moment. Craig broke it. "So now I'm here," he said. "And its happening all over again."  
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.  
"Please," Craig said. "You don't see it? We're kindred spirits. We're both different, a bit removed from everyone else. I fell in love with Skye. You fall in love with Ginny. A magical bond developed between Skye and me. A magical bond is developing between you and Ginny. Its all there."  
After a moment, Harry asked the question that was eating apart his insides. "Are you saying that what happened to Skye, is going to happen to Ginny?" Harry asked, shakily.  
"Not if you're powerful enough to stop it," Craig said. "Together, you can be strong enough. Now come on. Ginny is waiting for you by now."  
Harry felt like asking more, but Craig was already gone. He sighed and left, trying to collect himself after the shaky conversation.  
  
Ginny looked at the wall clock nervously. Harry was half an hour later. She usually didn't worry too much about him - she could feel him from miles away, and could therefore tell if he was in trouble - but something was definitely wrong with the world these days. The news of Voldemort's plans had confirmed this feeling.  
She hadn't shared the information with Harry. He would be upset that he couldn't go, too. She smiled. One of the things she loved about him was his enthusiasm for helping others.  
"But that wouldn't help others," Hermione pointed out, as Ginny explained everything that had happened the night before. "That would be hurting Voldemort, and not helping people."  
"Hurting Voldemort helps everyone," Ginny said, reflecting on her new found use of his name.  
Ron looked a bit sick at the sound of Voldemort's name. "Look, Ginny, none of us can go, so I don't think Harry would be too put out."  
"Are you kidding?" Ginny asked.  
"Yeah, that was stupid," Ron said. "But I don't want to have to go through another one of his anger attacks, and I'm making excuses."  
Ginny noticed, fleetingly, that Ron and Hermione were holding hands. At the moment when Ginny was about to start teasing them, Harry walked through the portrait hole.  
Ginny walked quickly up to him and gave him a hug, which surprised Harry. "Uh, Ginny, is something wrong?" he asked.  
"I was a little worried," Ginny admitted. "Where were you?"  
"Talking to Craig," Harry said, shortly. "He needs a friend, so I thought I might fill in."  
They walked back to where Hermione and Ron were sitting. "Did he have anything interesting to say?" asked Ginny.  
"Who?" Ron asked.  
"Craig," Harry replied. "And yes. He's a lot less complicated then we thought."  
Harry explained about why Craig learned all of his fighting skills. When he was done, it was nearing five thirty, and everyone had to go and get ready for the feast.. Hermione, however, held Harry back. "You consider that to be less complicated?"  
"Well, yeah," Harry said. "I don't see why not. He had a problem, and he solved it in the best way he could. End of story."  
"Harry, Craig has had his entire life laid out for him since he was a little baby. He never had to think about what he was going to be. Then he had all that thrown at him. What he chose for himself got ripped away. And that isn't complicated?"  
She left, and Harry wandered up to his room to change his robes, wondering the whole time whether or not his estimation of Craig had been all wrong. The kid was a mystery. There was nothing else for it.  
  
When Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione arrived at the Great Hall, they discovered that it was quite a bit bigger than they'd remembered it. Rather than just the four house tables, there were now five tables full of teenage girls - Slayers. The Head Table was expanded as well, now including Buffy, Faith, and Giles.  
For a moment, the four Gryffindor friends were a bit taken aback. But they recovered quickly and made their way to the Gryffindor table, which was now located between Hufflepuff and a Slayer table.  
They chose their seats, and sat down, noticing that they were fairly early, what with a lack of their fellow students. Ginny got into a conversation with the Slayers behind them, some of which Ginny had befriended at the afternoon Slayer training sessions she'd been participating in. She introduced her friends to Rona and Chao-Ann, along with a few of the new recruits.  
After a few minutes, other students started entering the Great Hall. There was a new problem with the entrance; students entering the Hall were so shocked with its new size that they would stop and stare from the doorway, clogging things up. Therefore, the feast was ten minutes late in starting.  
Finally, after everyone had gotten over the slight shock and were seated, Dumbledore stood up to speak.  
"I don't have anything in particular to say to you," he said, smiling at them, "except for one major thing: enjoy."  
Food appeared. As they began to eat, Jennifer Dane continued telling her story. "So there I was, in the middle of the park, and there were three vampires! So I grabbed one of them, and suddenly, I felt this weird tingling feeling, and it was like - like I wasn't scared of them anymore. I beat all three of them."  
"I was asleep," Ginny leaned back to tell them. "I wasn't sure what was going on, until I woke up and tore my bedcovers in half. Then I was sure of what was going on."  
"You knew 'bout the Slayer thing?" Rona asked.  
"No," Ginny said. "I was sure I was losing my mind."  
Everyone laughed, but Harry could see the faintest tinge of fear in the corner of Ginny's eye. He grasped her hand briefly, and she smiled, a tear forming but not falling.  
The feast was enormous and delicious. "The house-elves have outdone themselves," Seamus said.  
Ron instantly hit him. Harry and Ginny turned apprehensive looks on Hermione. And, sure enough... "Well, you would say that, wouldn't you?" she asked. "Without even considering that they aren't paid for their work? That they're slaves?"  
Ron sighed and looked down. But Willow, from the next table over, turned to look at Hermione. She was shocked. "What was that?" Willow asked. "Slaves?"  
"Oh, not another one," Ron moaned.  
At this, Hermione turned to him with a somewhat hurt expression. "Ron, why can't you ever be supportive of me?"  
Ron was taken completely aback. "Well...er..." he stuttered. It was only when Hermione turned back to Harry with a devious grin that he realized that Hermione was making Ron nervous on purpose. "I'm supportive sometimes..."  
Harry tried to hold in his laughter, but he couldn't. He and Ginny both burst out laughing hysterically. A second later, so did Hermione, leaving Ron completely befuddled. "Huh?" he asked.  
"Just making you squirm," Hermione said, happily. Ron turned red and looked angry at this, so Hermione changed the subject. "Why do you suppose there are empty chairs at the Head Table?"  
"Angel," Ginny said. Then she mentally kicked herself.  
"Angel is coming again?" Harry asked. "Why?"  
"And who is Angel?" Hermione asked.  
"Vampire with a soul who fights for our side," Harry said. "But why is he coming today?"  
Ginny kicked herself again. She didn't want to lie to Harry. But she didn't see what to do. "Uh...well, I'm not sure...oh, all right, Harry! Dumbledore is having a meeting that they needed Angel for."  
Harry thought about it for a moment. "Something to do with Voldemort?" he asked, keeping his voice down so as not to disturb his fellow students with the name.  
"Yes," Ginny said. "I would have told you, Harry, but I thought you'd get mad that you weren't invited."  
Harry kept his face hidden from Ginny to conceal the fact that she'd been right. "Whose angry?" he asked. "Why would I be angry that the guy upon whom the whole war depends wasn't invited to a meeting about it?"  
Ginny laid a hand on his shoulder. "If you want me to think that you're not upset about this, than not using sarcasm would have been a good way to go."  
Harry's anger faded. "I'm sorry, Gin," he said, taking the hand on his shoulder into his own. "I'm just tired of being kept in the dark about the war."  
"I know," she said. She reached her head up quickly and kissed him. "Don't let it worry you."  
"You haven't done that for a while," Harry whispered to her as she pulled back.  
"I was saving it for a special time," she said, blushing a bit. "Just in case you needed to be calmed down."  
He smiled at her. "I think I could do with a bit more calming..."  
Ginny giggled. "Not in public, Harry!" she said.  
"Later, then," Harry whispered in her ear.  
She grinned in promise. At that time, the door to the Great Hall opened again, and Angel, accompanied by Wesley and Gunn, entered.  
He strode up to the Head Table and greeted Buffy and Dumbledore. "Good to see you again, Professor," he said.  
"Likewise," Dumbledore said. "Have a seat, please. I'm sure you're weary after such a long journey."  
"Yeah," Angel said. He and his friends took up the empty seats.  
"The meeting will take place at nine," Dumbledore said. "I'm sure that once the feast is over, you and Buffy can find something to occupy you for the remaining time."  
Angel nodded, and sat down to the food.  
  
At nine o'clock, people began arriving at Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore was the last to arrive, accompanied Angel. They all went in and took seats around his desk.  
Dumbledore looked around him. "Remus, Faith, Angel, Craig, Willow...Severus will be joining us shortly. He went back to ascertain a bit more about the Lake site.  
"Now, I'd like to outline for you what I already went over with Severus. Voldemort has been collecting people for the past few months in order to obtain a large amount of fresh human blood. He needs the blood fresh, so we have good reason to believe that they are all still alive.  
"Voldemort aims to create a lake of human blood. He aims to create an army of vampires, and a lake of fresh human blood is a great way to go about doing it.  
"However, keeping the lake supplied would take an enormous amount of people, an amount too high for even Voldemort to keep up. So he intends to perform an ancient Dark ritual to make the lake self-replenishing and fresh for eternity.  
"If the ritual is completed, the Lake will never be able to be destroyed without an enormous amount of Dark power. We don't have the power or the resources to destroy it once the ritual is complete. Therefore, our goal is to keep the ritual from succeeding.  
"Now, the ritual itself: it is known as the Rite of Mars. Its fairly simple, actually; an anointed man uses the Dagger of Mars to kill the victims and drain their blood into the Lake. Once the Lake is full, the anointed man uses a drop of his own blood to complete the ritual and give the Lake its special powers."  
"How do we go about disrupting the ritual?" Angel asked.  
"There are a number of ways to make the ritual fail," Dumbledore said. "Voldemort needs at least three hundred victims to fill the lake. If the ritual is begun and he doesn't have enough, then it will fail. Or if the anointed one contributes his own blood too early, it will fail. Finally, destroying the Dagger any time before the ritual is completed will cause it to fail. Those are your options.  
"Here it is as I see it: Severus knows the Lake site better than any of you, so he and Lupin will find the victims and get as many of them out as they can. You will have to find a place to hid them inside the forest," Dumbledore said, sadly. "For most of them will die if they try to leave it. Craig and Willow will look for the Dagger and try to destroy it. Angel and Faith will try to find the anointed man and kill him. If the ritual begins, focus on getting the Dagger and killing the anointed man. The Dagger is the key to making the ritual work.  
"Any questions?"  
Dumbledore looked around. They were all absorbing this information. None seemed questioning of the plan.  
"What happens if we fail?" Craig asked.  
"Get out," Dumbledore said. "If you fail to stop the ritual, then there is nothing you can do."  
Just then, Snape burst into the room. He seemed a bit windswept, as though he had just gotten to Hogwarts and hadn't stopped moving until he reached the Headmaster's office.  
"Tonight," he said, through gasps of breath. "The ritual is being done tonight."  
  
HAHAHAHAHA. Cliffhanger! Do you hate me? Do you love me? Do you think I'm a flying monkey with a long, pointy tail? Let me know. I want to see lots and lots of feedback! Please? Stick around for the next chapter - its going to be action packed. 


	22. The TwentySecond Chapter

Hey, all. Last chapter was enormous, and I'm getting right down to work on this one. By the way, if anyone is interested in giving the chapters names, send me an email or an IM. Or a review. Actually, send those reviews anyway. But I'm serious about naming chapters, since I'm terrible at it and what there is now seems kind of silly.   
  
"Tonight?" Dumbledore asked, sharply. "You are sure?"  
"Yes," Snape breathed. "I'm sure. They were preparing things even as I left."  
"Then we've got act fast," Angel said. "Come on, lead us there."  
Dumbledore looked like he wanted to protest. There was nothing for it, though. They had to go now if there was going to be a chance.  
"Okay," Dumbledore said. "Good luck."  
They left the office, Dumbledore shaking his head. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all.  
  
Snape lead the way quickly through the castle. No one spoke; it was assumed that some form of transportation was available. Sure enough, at the dock by the lake, Dumbledore's illegal flying carpets lay in wait, as well as several new carpets.  
"This one," Snape said, taciturnly. He climbed aboard a carpet. Craig, Angel, Willow, Lupin, and Faith piled on after him.  
As the carpet rose into the air, Snape explained it to them. "This is the new stealth model," he said. "Right now, this carpet and everything on it is invisible to everyone not on it."  
"Nice," Craig said. "Does it have any weapons on board?"  
"Of course," Snape snapped. He pulled on a small handle on the carpet, and case of weapons rose out of it.  
"Weird," muttered Faith.  
Snape opened the crate. Inside were several broadswords, knives, axes, and about twenty stakes. The six loaded up on stakes and chose weapons. And they settled in.  
"How long is it going to take to get there?" Willow asked.  
"Half an hour," Snape said. The countryside was whizzing quickly by. They'd already crossed the English Channel. "We'll cross through France, Switzerland, Italy, and then we'll travel over the Adriatic Sea and come at the forest from the north."  
There wasn't much to see on the trip; the land was moving by too quickly for them to see anything clearly. And then there was just water.  
"We're nearly there," Snape said. "Okay, when we get there, we're going to have to be completely silent. The forest is patrolled by all manner of Dark creatures. There is only one safe way for us to sneak in.  
"We're going in a hole in the patrol perimeter. Once we're through, we'll hit ground clear of patrols, but not without dangers of its own. After that, we'll come to the camp.  
"I didn't get too detailed a look around, but the Dark Lord is sure to have everything essential to the ritual very heavily guarded.  
"One last thing," Snape said. "The amount of Dark magic in use here has polluted the air. Being there has a wearing effect on anyone who isn't evil. So be careful."  
The carpet slowed down, no longer blurring the landscape under them. It turned, and they were soon flying over the shore. A couple of minutes later, they passed over a ridge and below them, hidden by the ridge, was an enormous, dark forest. Smoke rose from its center, forming and un-forming the Dark Mark.  
"Gee, that's not too creepy," Willow said.  
The carpet set down, and the six jumped immediately off. The carpet flattened itself into the terrain and became invisible. Snape took a little trinket out of his pocket and pressed a button on it. "When next I press that button, the carpet will become visible again," he explained. "Lets go, and stay absolutely quiet."  
They entered the forest. The tree's seemed to loom to impossible heights all around them. All kept quiet and followed Snape.  
After a few minutes of running silently through the forest, Snape stopped them. "We're past the perimeter," he said.  
"That was easy," Faith muttered. "We never even saw a patrol."  
"That is because they didn't want us to see them," Snape said, more acid coming through his voice. "The lucky thing is that they didn't us. Come on. There are still dangers here."  
They proceeded again. They went maybe fifteen feet when Craig stopped. So did Angel.  
"What is it?" Lupin asked.  
"A demon," Angel said. "I'm not sure what..."  
There was a loud screech, and a scaly bird swooped down out of the trees at them. Lupin reached for his wand, but Craig had already leapt upon the bird and grabbed a hold of it.  
He hung on, trying to get a better grip, and brought his sword around and sliced at the birds neck. Its scales protected it. It began to flap its massive wings, trying to get altitude and shake Craig off.  
Craig pressed his sword under one of the bird's neck scales. He pried a bit, until the scale ripped away, leaving a patch of exposed flesh. Seeing this, his eyes glistened.  
The bird nearing the tree line...he would be visible soon...Craig plunged his sword into the expose flesh of the bird's neck. It screeched again, this time in pain, and it stopped flapping. It fell back to Earth, dead.  
Craig let go of his hold on the creature and grabbed a branch on the way down, swinging around it to slow his descent. After slowing his speed, he dropped the rest of the way and landed in a crouch.  
He looked up at the group. "Problem solved," he said. "Lets go."  
They continued on. "What was that thing?" Willow asked.  
"I don't know," Lupin answered. "And I thought I knew every Dark creature in the book."  
"I don't think you'll find that in any book anywhere, Remus," Snape said, his usual viciousness holding true. "I believe the Dark Lord has been breeding new Dark Creatures. This part of the forest is full of his...mistakes."  
This caused a bout of silence. They continued advancing. After a few minutes, Angel piped up. "How big is this forest, anyway?"  
"Large," Snape said. "About twenty-five miles in diameter. We have another mile to cover."  
About seven minutes or so later, the trees stopped. It was a bit shocking; there wasn't much warning, like more light, but there was a definite clearing.  
"Excellent," Snape said. "We're right where we want to be. These grounds are being prepared for the use of the vampires, once they're all here. But they're not done, and they're not patrolled.  
"We'll enter here and head south towards the Lake. You already know what you have to do. Let's go."  
They came out into the open, but hugged the tree line as they headed south. The ground they walked on was dead. And dark. After a moment of stealthy walking, Willow looked up. "Hey, there aren't any stars here!"  
"This forest is in state of constant darkness," Snape said. "Makes it easier to house vampires. Even the stars are blotted out."  
They continued, until the tree line began to curve east. A vast, empty crater lay before them, with a huge tower looming up at one of the sides, supporting a platform that was over the crater.  
"That's it," Snape said, unnecessarily. "Get a good look at it. If we all fail, then we'll have to take out the anointed during the ritual."  
They looked up at the platform. Spikes rose up from underneath it to conceal whatever was up there. It was at least sixty feet in the air.  
"Right, then," Snape said. They split up.  
  
Lupin and Snape headed south down the Lake's western shore, towards to tower. "Do you have any idea where these captives are being held?" Lupin asked, evenly.  
"I have some idea," Snape said. "They're somewhere between Voldemort's tent and the Lake. We'll start our search at the Lake and fan out from there."  
They did this, making sure to stay well out of range of the patrols guarding the Lake. They drew parallel with the tower and turned west.  
The dark, misty quality of the clearing got thicker as they left the trees behind and headed towards the center of the clearing. After traveling only a few feet, they could only see ten or twenty feet ahead of them. Lupin considered lighting his wand, but thought better of it. Instead, he listened to the wolf inside him, which told him that when his eyes began to fail him, he still had four other senses.  
"Listen," Lupin said, after a moment of walking. "Do you hear that?"  
Snape stopped. He craned his neck and listened. "Yes," he said, after a moment. "I do."  
The sound of crying was drifting through the mist towards them from a point to the northwest. They turned slightly and hurried to see what there was.  
After a moment, they found it. A huge cage, suspended above a pit of spikes and shrapnel, filled with human beings. Some were unconscious. Most weren't. All showed the signs of having been forcibly restrained. There was a guard of five Death Eaters and...a Giant.  
Snape and Lupin instantly took cover behind a large rock. "Okay," Lupin said. "How do we get them out, now?"  
  
Angel and Faith traveled lightly and silently. "If you were an anointed man, or a man being anointed, where would you be?" Faith asked, softly.  
"Death Eaters tents," Angel said. "Snape told me how to find them. We'll look there first, but if he's not there, then he's probably in Voldemort's tent or the tower."  
Faith glanced back at the tower. They'd gone around the lake and were heading into the southern part of the clearing. She shivered. She didn't want to go in there.  
"What is it about that thing?" she asked. "It's givin' me the shivers."  
"It's a conduit of Dark energy," Angel explained. "The ritual requires enormous amounts of Dark energy, and that thing channels it out of the Hellmouth below us into the Lake and the platform."  
"How do you know all this?" Faith asked.  
"Cause I did my homework when I was just a little demon," Angel replied. "Come on, we have some ground to cover."  
They did this quickly. They passed through the now deserted Death Eater's training grounds, which featured a grotesque mixture of ordinary training equipment and torture equipment.  
"There they are," Angel said, indicating a set of tents ahead. There were a lot of them - probably fifty, Faith guessed. And they didn't know if the tents were enchanted for size, which meant each of them could be the size of Times Square.  
Faith sighed. This was going to be long and difficult, and in the end, perhaps pointless.  
  
Willow stumbled a bit. Craig grabbed her and steadied her. "Are you okay?" he asked.  
"Yeah," she said. "Its just that I'm getting huge amounts of the bad guy vibe from this place, and its giving me a headache."  
"Headache," Craig said, amusedly. "I get so many of them that I don't even notice anymore."  
"You are the only person I know who could grin in a place like this," Willow said.  
Craig didn't respond, and the grin disappeared. Willow shook her head. Figuring out Craig was something for another time - another time in which there was lots of spare time.  
They headed quickly west across the vampire lodging grounds, looking for Voldemort's enormous tent. It was there that Snape believed the Dagger was hidden, and Craig's natural ability for making himself appear invisible made him the natural candidate for sneaking into the tent.  
"When I get in, you'll have to keep watch and tell me telepathically what's going on outside," Craig said. "I need to know if the guards realize I'm there."  
"I've got you covered," Willow said, massaging her head.  
A huge, two story tent loomed into view. Craig and Willow stopped. "I'm guessing that's it," Willow said.  
"Yeah," Craig replied. "Can't imagine that its not."  
They crept closer, until they could see clearly the guards standing out side the door to the tent. Five Death Eaters stood outside the tent, and three more circled it constantly, watching.  
Willow and Craig crouched low. "Okay, this is it," Craig whispered. "I'm going in."  
  
Faith and Angel walked stealthily through the tents. They looked quickly into each one. They saw nothing of interest, and none of the occupants of the tents noticed them.  
For a while, anyway.  
They were on the last row of tents when Angel emerged onto the main walkway and ran into a pair of Death Eaters.  
"Who are you?" one of them asked, sharply.  
"Who, me?" Angel asked. "I'm a big fan! I'm a vampire! I'm here to see the Rite of Mars!"  
The Death Eaters looked at each other. Faith snuck around behind them, silently.  
"Don't you boys believe me?" Angel asked, morphing his face to add to the story.  
Faith got behind them. She came up directly behind them, and in one swift, sure motion, smashed their heads together. They crumpled to the ground, unconscious.  
"Never trust the fans, kiddies," Angel said, as he and Faith dragged them out of sight and took away their wands.  
They resumed the search. And finally, in the last tent in the row, they found him.  
Latin words floated out of the tent, which glowed slightly from what was going in inside. Angel translated softly for Faith's benefit.  
"And I shall swear, upon the existence of Life, and the existence of Death, that I shall Forever be in the service of the great and holy Mars, of which our power is drawn, that he may bathe tonight in the blood of the innocent..."  
"That's enough, thanks," Faith said. She seemed a bit nervous. "Let's just get this guy so we can go home."  
Angel smiled. "I would assume that you would prefer me to do the actual killing?" he asked.  
She looked at him in gratitude. "Sorry," she said. "Even if he's evil, I still have a problem with killing. Don't want to slip..."  
"I understand," Angel said.  
They eliminated the guard quickly and efficiently. They were about to enter the tent when a pair of Stunners hit them from behind, knocking them out.  
  
Snape and Lupin still crouched under the rock. "A diversion," Snape suggested. "I draw away as much of the guard as possible, and remove the rest and free the people."  
Lupin nodded. It was as sound a plan as he could think of, and time was running out. "Go, then," he said.  
Snape straightened up. Then he bolted towards the cage. "Quickly! We're under attack! By the Giant's quarters!"  
The Death Eaters all recognized Snape. Two of them, plus the Giant, followed him away to the south west.  
"Three left," Lupin muttered. "This will be tricky."  
He weighed his options. Stunners left too wide a margin of time; he could Stun two of them before they could send up an alarm, but not all three. He settled on a Silence Blanketing Charm.  
Lupin raised his wand. "Largifluus Silencio!" he muttered.  
Instantly, all the crying stopped. The Death Eaters turned in shock, and tried to ask each other what had happened. They found that they couldn't. They raised their wands into the air to send up an alarm...and they couldn't say the words to make the spell work. Lupin stood and sent Stunners at them quickly.  
Two of them went down right away, but the third blocked the Stunner. This Death Eater slashed at Lupin, and Lupin ducked back to avoid it. The slash cut the rock neatly. Lupin rolled out from behind the rock and cast another Stunner. This time, the Death Eater was hit, and he crumbled to the ground.  
"Finite Incantatem," Lupin said.  
Instantly, the voices of the prisoners were returned. None of them said anything for a moment, then they began yelling again. Lupin smiled, completely without mirth. As long as they were yelling, no one would be suspicious.  
  
Snape lead the three Death Eaters and the Giant for about three hundred feet, and then allowed them to get ahead of him. He knew what he had planned.  
Snape drew out his wand. He pointed it at the cluster of Death Eaters and muttered, "Ereptio". Instantly, they broke down, twitching and jerking. The Giant didn't notice, not until Snape's Stunner hit it. It fell to the ground, making a slight sound not unlike a felled tree.  
Making sure that all three Death Eaters were unconscious from the Seizure Charm, Snape turned and hurried back to the Cage site.  
When he arrived, he found Lupin picking through the pockets of one of the Death Eaters. All were Stunned. Wordlessly, Snape began to help.  
After a moment, though, Lupin looked up. Voices were fast approaching. He grabbed Snape, and, without an explanation, dove behind the rock.  
"Oh, shit," Snape muttered, as he saw what the new Death Eater's carried.  
Suspended on invisible stretchers were Angel and Faith. "Look!" the lead Death Eater said. "They've been here too!"  
"How many do you suppose there are?" asked another.  
"I don't know," the lead said. He smiled viciously. "But they're just food for the Lake now."  
The eight of them took up a defensive perimeter around the cage, into which they tossed Angel and Faith. Lupin watched as the two of them flew directly through the bars.  
"One-way cage," Snape muttered.  
"I don't suppose they'd fall for the same distraction?" Lupin asked.  
"Don't be an idiot," Snape snapped. "They're on alert now. And besides, those are smart men. They wouldn't fall for it anyway."  
Lupin nodded. This was bad...and it was getting worse.  
  
Craig had no problem getting into the tent. The patrol outside had been too far away to even feel the breeze as he passed them and entered.  
The tent itself was two stories, with a wide, sweeping staircase directly ahead as he entered. And at the top of the staircase there was a glass display case.  
"Bingo," Craig muttered. Hugging the outer wall of the tent, Craig skipped the staircase and leapt the distance up onto the second level.  
So far so good. No word from Willow meant everything was good. Or so he hoped.  
Two Death Eaters guarded the case. Craig came up behind them and touched the case. He concentrated hard on it, and a little red circle began to trace itself around on the glass. When it was done, the circlet of glass fell out, and Craig caught it, putting it in his pocket. He reached in and took a hold of the Dagger. He seemed home free, pulling it out. As soon as the Dagger had completely left the case, the whole tent erupted in an enormous alarm.  
Both Death Eaters whirled instantly. Craig met the first one with a reverse heel kick that knocked the Death Eater over the railing. The second hurried across the case to meet Craig, but Craig met him halfway and, whirling, delivered an elbow to the side of the Death Eater's head. His head smashed into and through the glass case, knocking him unconscious.  
Craig quickly descended the stairs. He was going to make it out. He gripped the Dagger tightly as he went through the door of the tent...and was yanked back into it.  
He skidded to a halt on the floor. He was disoriented - the abrupt and violent change of directions had thrown him a bit. He shook his head to clear the stars away and jumped to his feet. He was about to try again when a voice spoke from the top level.  
"Don't bother," the voice said. Craig turned, and saw Lord Voldemort staring down at him. "Thee Dagger is enchanted, so that only the anointed man may remove it from this tent. Ingenious, no?"  
Craig snarled, all semblance of rational thought forgotten. He felt something strange come over him, and he felt his face...change...somehow. But it wasn't important. He sprang at Voldemort, wanting to rip, tear, anything against the thing standing before him.  
Halfway there, Voldemort's Stunner hit him, and he knew no more.  
  
Outside, Willow tried to focus on the Death Eaters in front of the tent, but found it increasingly difficult. The headache had grown into a roaring throb in the back of her head.  
Her vision began to blur and she collapsed. A moment later, as Death Eaters swarmed into Voldemort's tent, she was picked up by Voldemort himself. He grinned as he carried the two limp forms toward the cage.  
  
From their place of concealment, Snape and Lupin watched as Voldemort approached. Lupin shuddered a bit. The last time Lupin had seen Voldemort face to face...it hadn't been pretty.  
Voldemort was carrying two figures. Though he couldn't make out who they were, exactly, he could guess that Willow and Craig had been captured. Voldemort drew up to the Cage and tossed the two forms inside.  
  
Angel stirred as two more figures came hurtling. One he immediately recognized as Willow. The other took a moment, but Angel realized that it was Craig.  
Craig seemed grotesquely changed. His face, which had been fairly normal, now contained lines that crisscrossed his face. All his features seemed to have sharpened. When he opened his eyes, they were no longer blue; they were red.  
Craig snarled first, then seemed to come back into himself a bit. The lines faded, and his eyes changed back to blue. He was startled.  
"What just happened...?" he asked. For a moment, he seemed scared and lost.  
"You really don't know?" Voldemort asked, from outside the Cage. "What you are?"  
"Don't listen, Craig," Angel advised. "Don't pay attention."  
But unfortunately, Craig had already been ensnared. "What do you know about me?" he asked, forgetting for the moment who is was he was addressing.  
"You are a taedia, Craig," Voldemort said. "The word is very old, so don't bother looking it up. Not that you'll ever get the chance. I suppose that isn't surprising that you didn't know, though; you've been with the wrong crowd to really know your origins.  
"After all, none of your friends have anywhere near as complete a knowledge of the history Dark creatures as I do."  
Craig absorbed this quickly. "I'm not a demon," he said.  
"Oh, but you are," Voldemort said. "But that is immaterial. Soon enough, you won't be demon, you'll just be a corpse."  
The Cage began to move. The occupants, who had never stopped crying, began crying louder. Angel crawled up to Craig. "We need to figure out how to get out of here," he said.  
"You think?" Craig responded. "These bars are magically made. They're much too strong for either or both of us to break."  
"Where are Snape and Lupin?" Angel asked.  
"I haven't seen them," Craig admitted. He cast around for a moment. Faith was waking up. Neither of the two wizards was present.  
"Maybe they're still free," Angel suggested, completing his own visual survey of the Cage.  
"Or maybe they're dead," Craig suggested grimly. He looked out of the bars. Through the mist, he could see the Tower coming into view. Faith joined them. She looked out as well.  
"This really isn't good," she said.  
"You noticed that too?" Craig asked.  
The Cage stopped moving forward. Then, with a sickening lurch, it began to rise. Slowly it ascended towards the platform.  
"I hope you have a plan," Craig said, looking to Faith and Angel.  
"I'd pray, but it doesn't work too good for vampires," Angel said.  
They reached the top and moved forward, so that the Cage drew level with the platform. A man stood there. His eyes glowed with Dark energy, and when Craig looked down to the crater below, he saw a swirling dark vortex open there.  
The anointed man licked his lips. "The Ritual of Mars has begun," he said. His voice came in a huge rumbling wave, shaking the Cage. "You are, as of this moment, dead."  
The Cage door opened. One of the prisoners flew out. Angel and Craig tried to rush the open door, but an invisible force threw them back. The man laughed and turned to his victim. He held up the Dagger, and made a small slit in the young girl's throat. She screamed; the Dagger had begun to burn red. Her blood came slowly at first, the first drops hitting the vortex below and causing it to swirl faster. Then, as the Dagger was thrust into her more and more, she bled quicker. She stopped screaming.  
When she was done, a matter of minutes after the Cage had been opened for the first time, the chosen man tossed her body down into the crater. It passed through the vortex, connecting with the crater bottom with a sickening lurch. Craig took a double take. None of the substantial amount of blood that had already been spilled was below the vortex.  
Another victim, a middle aged man, was pulled by the invisible force. The chosen plunged into his neck more quickly; the first kill was more tantalizing, but now the chosen wanted to get it over with quicker. Though he was enjoying this, he was on a schedule.  
  
Willow awoke, two hours later, to a splitting headache and an awful stench. She was laying inside a cage, and she had no idea how she'd gotten there. Or where 'there' was, exactly. All she knew was that she was angry. Really angry.  
She sat up and crawled over to the side of the cage, where Craig, Angel, and Faith sat, looking shell shocked. "What's going on?" Willow asked.  
None of them spoke. Faith pointed down out of the cage, into a crater below them. There lay bodies...perhaps several hundred of them. Not a drop of blood, though.  
"They're saving us for last," Angel said.  
"I can already hear them," Craig said. "Maybe it's the magic, but...its never happened so fast..."  
Willow looked around the cage. Aside from her friends, the cage was empty. In front of her, outside the cage, the chosen was draining the last victim. As his blood hit the vortex, it stopped swirling, violently.  
Willow's eyes darkened, taking on a familiar, evil black. Angel noticed it first; he was the only one who knew what it meant, anyway. "Willow..." he said, but it was too late.  
As the chosen tossed the body of the final victim away and turned, smiling, to the four left from Hogwarts, two things happened simultaneously. One, a bolt of magical energy from somewhere on the Lake's shore came up and narrowly missed the chosen. And two, Willow's dark energy destroyed the bottom of their cage. They instantly fell towards the ground.  
Lupin and Snape, who had fired the magic that should have hit the chosen, saw their friends fall and hastened to slow their descent with magic. Faith, Angel, and Craig slowed quickly, but Willow had stopped falling all together. They were under the Dark vortex, which vibrated, awaiting the finality of the ritual.  
Seeing their friends out of danger, Lupin took aim at the anointed man once more, while Snape hastened to hold off the onrush of Death Eaters.  
Seeing that his Death Eaters could not reach Lupin and Snape in time, Voldemort's eyes flashed towards his shocked anointed man. Upon Voldemort's command, the Dagger flew out of the anointed man's hand, circling around to slice his stomach open. The blade circled one more time, and removed the anointed man's head completely.  
Lupin's spell connected with the anointed man, but it was already too late. His blood fell towards the vortex just as Willow landed...  
The second the blood touched the vortex, it exploded, knocking everyone except Willow down. Instantly, before anyone could register what was going on, the bottom of the vortex opened up - and rained blood.  
"Come on," Angel said, choking slightly the blood that was quickly filling the lake. "We have to get out, or you'll drown!"  
Both Lupin and Snape were busy defending themselves, so they couldn't help. Angel grabbed Faith and Craig and prepared to jump. "What about Willow?" Craig asked.  
"Believe me," Angel said. "When she's like this, you don't want to go near her."  
Angel put everything he had into the leap. The shore of the Lake was probably about twenty feet in the air; he could manage that.  
He did, though just barely. When the three hit the shore, Angel's knee's gave out, and he collapsed. With a groan, he felt his legs. Faith felt them, too. "Nothing broken," she said. "But it may have popped a joint. This is gonna hurt," she added.  
Angel barely had time to say, "What?", before Faith wrenched his leg around. He yelled. A second later, he stood. "Thanks," he said.  
"Any time," Faith replied.   
A small group of demons, loyal to Voldemort for reason's best left unsaid, rushed the three. They met them, fighting furiously with what remained of their strength.  
As Craig swung a demon around by its clawed hands and heaved it into the lake, he noticed Willow still there, standing, apparently, on the surface of the lake. She was looking towards the sky, where the vortex was nearly finished spewing blood.  
"What's she doing?" Craig asked.  
"Don't know," Angel said. "But you can bet its not going to be pretty."  
A second later, as the scales had just begun to tip in favor of the demons, the whole world seemed to explode.  
Willow's mouth opened in a scream that transcended the spectrum of human hearing and beyond. Waves of Dark energy erupted from all over her body, lashing out in all directions. A moment later, Willow herself passed out and was caught by the concussion wave of her own Dark explosion.  
  
Craig crawled over the ground, now littered with blood, skin, steel, and mud, towards the trees. If he could only reach the trees...  
The explosion had seemingly taken reality, balled it up, given it a good hard shake, then dumped out what was left. Craig counted himself lucky to have survived. A few more seconds in that concussion wave, and he probably wouldn't have, but he'd managed to duck out of it at the last moment. And now the tree line, and safety, was so close, he could nearly taste it.  
He reached the trees, agonizingly. He leaned up against one and turned to look at the devastation.  
The tower was gone; fragments of metal showed that it had not weathered the blast well at all. The mist that had surrounded the camp had been blown away, revealing that most structures in the forest clearing now lay in peaces. The forest itself had been flattened a great deal; these trees that Craig now took shelter in had not been close to the line before.  
But still the Lake stood, calmly riling with blood.  
Craig wasn't aware of his crawl through the forest; he was aware only of finding the spot where the carpet had lain and passing out completely.  
When he awoke again, the carpet was in the air, and flying over the sea again. Craig looked around, woozily. Snape had a large gash running down the side of his face, and Lupin's arm hung in a hastily made sling. Angel sat on the other side of the carpet, his legs drawn out before him, both visibly broken. Faith kneeled next to Angel, trying to straighten out the vampire's leg. She was bruised and cut in several different locations. And Willow lay next him. She was cut all over, and was bleeding from several of the cuts.  
"We found her at the edge of the forest," Snape said, seeing Craig awake and questioning. "She had no right to survive a spell like that, and yet, she is still breathing."  
Craig smiled. They had all lived, then. He didn't know how they had managed to screw things up so badly and still come out alive, but it had happened. Craig's bemused smile didn't waiver as he passed out again.  
  
Gee. That took a while to get out, but there it is. Phew. Gory, no? Please, oh PLEASE, write me a review! I need to hear what you have to say in order to keep banging out new chapters. Did I just say banging? Oops. Sorry, kids. Oh, and say 'Bunker Shorts' if you want to see more of that kind of action - I know that it can sometimes bore people. Thanks. 


	23. The TwentyThird Chapter

As per usual, thanks go out to all of my reviewers. You guys are ravenous! You want to see the next chapter almost as much as I want to write it. Speaking of which...why don't we get to the good part?  
  
Harry sat with Ginny in the Common Room. Perhaps 'sat' really isn't descriptive enough. Fine, then; they sat, and as they sat, they kissed.  
It wasn't a very serious make-out session, as Harry had seen in those few movies he'd witnessed throughout his childhood; instead, it seemed more about relaxation than frenzied passion. He wasn't just enjoying this - he felt relaxed, too.  
Not quite relaxed, though. Something, at the back of his head, was bugging him. Perhaps it was nothing; he wished that it could just be nothing, because something so often ended with death and pain.  
Breaking from the kiss, Harry shifted to the side. "What's bugging you?" Ginny asked.  
"I don't know," Harry said. "And that's bugging me, too, but there is something else, that I can't quite put my finger on."  
Ginny brushed a hand across his face. "It's the dreaming, isn't it?" she asked.  
"What?" Harry asked.  
"I'm not sure," Ginny said, recoiling a bit, surprised at herself. "It was like someone else was telling me to ask you that."  
Harry gave her a sideways glance, but he lowered his head into his hands. "Yes, it is the dreaming," he said, at last. "But its not one that I understand."  
Ginny patted his back, ever the reassuring person in Harry's life. "They're only dreams," she said, and drew him back into their kiss.  
Neither was completely aware of the passing of time; which is hardly surprising, given their current activity. When they did look up, though, they were not in the least bit surprised to discover that it was nearing three in the morning.  
"Well, we don't have to get up early tomorrow, anyway," Harry said. He was about to kiss Ginny again when he stopped. His eyes widened.  
"Did you just hear...?" he asked, but Ginny was already on her feet, sprinting to the portrait hole.  
The portrait swung open to allow her to exit. Harry dived out behind her. Besides the Fat Lady, who always occupied the portrait, another figure stood, looking thoroughly winded.  
The Fat Lady was attempting to calm her fellow picture. "Alright, there, you're fine, it's okay..."  
"Professor Snape and Professor Lupin just got back, and they've got wounded," the other picture breathed deeply. "They're headed for the Hospital Wing...I wanted to tell all the pictures about it tonight, see if we can't set up a vigil for them..."  
Neither Harry nor Ginny heard the rest. They both sprinted towards the Hospital Wing, disregarding their own safety in the process and nearly killing themselves on the stairs.  
Whatever the meeting had been about...  
  
When the two arrived at the door of the Hospital Wing, Dumbledore was just getting there himself. He was a bit surprised to see them, but he hid it well.  
"And what are you two doing out of bed?" he scolded, though his heart was very severely not in it.  
"We heard that there had been trouble," Harry said. "Wounded...thought we could lend a hand."  
Actually, there hadn't been enough dialogue between them to warrant that statement, but it was plausible enough that they'd bee thinking the same thing. Dumbledore nodded. These two were trustworthy...they hadn't just come to gawk. He pushed open the door and entered, closely followed by Harry and Ginny.  
Snape and Lupin were standing bent over two different beds, apparently giving a beleaguered Madame Pomfrey a hand. The nurse herself gave a small cry when she saw Dumbledore.  
"There aren't more, are there?" she asked, breathlessly.  
"No, Poppy," Dumbledore said. "That will be all."  
"Good," she said, turning back to Faith, who lay on a bed, looking exhausted. Snape pulled on one of Angel's legs, causing him to cry out in pain.  
"That hurt," he said, unnecessarily.  
"I know," Snape said, without a thought of caring.  
Lupin bent over Craig, examining a massive head wound. Harry and Ginny both found themselves drawn to his bed. "Is he going to be okay, Professor?" Ginny asked.  
Not rising to the use of his old title, Lupin turned to them. "I believe he will be," he said. "The cut to his head isn't as bad as it looks. He should be up and about by the end of the week."  
Just then, Harry noticed something. "Where's Willow?" he asked. Dubious glances were exchanged by Angel, Faith, Lupin, and Snape.  
"She's...resting," Lupin said, finally.  
  
Willow seemed to glide through uneasy dreams. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't quite escape from the images assailing her brain. Tara... Warren... Kennedy... Oz... Xander... Jesse... Goddess, it had been so long...  
Her mind seemed to be reviewing every person she'd ever had an intimate connection to. She had loved Xander, Oz, and Tara; she still loved Tara. And killing Warren had formed an inexplicable bond between them.  
And then Buffy. Buffy, the Slayer. The only Slayer. Then Buffy, a leader of Slayers. No, that's not right; Buffy, a leader of scared girls who could someday be Slayers. Then they were Slayers.  
Then...she didn't know what happened next. Everything in the past seemed so clouded, yet so clearly painful. She'd caused a lot of pain. She'd done some good, too, but mostly, she'd just hurt people and got other people hurt.  
Her consciousness swirled around, doing little loop the loops and always coming back to the inevitable fact that she had tried, for months now, to hide from - her powers, and everything about her, was evil.  
  
When she finally awoke, Buffy and Xander were sitting by her bed. Both of them breathed a sigh of relief when they saw her eyes open. Secretly, that sigh also encompassed the fact that her eyes were no longer black.  
"Where...?" She asked, slightly woozy.  
"You're in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, Willow," Buffy said. "You're going to be okay."  
"Buffy, I can't remember anything," Willow said, suddenly alarmed. "I can't remember where I've been for the past few hours..."  
"Its okay, Wil," Xander reassured her. "You're fine, and everyone got out alive."  
He kicked himself instantly. Then Buffy kicked him too. That hurt worse. "Got out of where?" Willow asked. And, suddenly, forcefully, the memory of what had transpired came rushing in to fill her cranium with unwanted knowledge.  
"Oh," Willow said, her eyes going round and huge as she realized the full extent of what had happened.  
  
Later, Buffy sat with Giles, Dumbledore, and Snape in Dumbledore's office. "Willow is going to be okay," Buffy said. "The nurse gave her some sort of potion when she started to get agitated."  
"Dreamless Sleep, no doubt," Dumbledore said. "She will have a sound night of sleep, Buffy, without dreams of any sort."  
"And after an ordeal like tonight, I doubt that any of her dreams would be very pleasant," Snape said.  
"What, exactly, did happen tonight, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, giving his full attention to the Potions teacher.  
Snape explained how they had gotten into the forest clearing okay, and how things had fallen apart from there.  
"Lupin and I tried to get them out of the cage, but we just couldn't get close enough to do any damage while the ritual was being performed," he explained. "Once it was nearing completion, though, the Death Eaters retreated a bit to avoid the blast from the completed spell.  
"At about that time, Miss Rosenberg destroyed the bottom of the cage, releasing her as well as Angel, Craig, and Faith. We slowed their decent, but Miss Rosenberg didn't require slowing of any kind. She was flying on her own power.  
"We fought the demons and Death Eaters along the bank of the Lake. The ritual was completed. Some short time after that, as it appeared as though we would be defeated by Voldemort's forces, the entire area just...blew up."  
"What?" Giles asked. "How?"  
"Miss Rosenberg," Snape said, simply. "I have talked with the others in the cage, and it appears as though when she woke up, her eyes had gone completely black."  
"I thought she was over that," Giles muttered.  
"This has happened before?" Dumbledore asked, sharply.  
"Well, yes," Giles said, rather reluctantly. "She tried to end the world a few years ago."  
There was a moment's pause. "She's been clean for at least a year," Buffy said, finally. "No black magic, nothing."  
"That," Dumbledore said, quelling a bit. "Doesn't matter in the least. She could spend the next fifty years doing nothing but gardening, and she could still get up one morning and blow half the world to bits."  
There was another pause. "What set her off?" Buffy asked. "Last time, it was Tara's death. What could possibly have driven her to do what she did?"  
"That forest," Dumbledore said. "It is a focal point of Dark energy. Even if the forest hadn't been evil to begin with, Voldemort's extended stay there has certainly made it that way. Evil is in the very air there; it is possible that it effected Miss Rosenberg in a more...violent...way then the others."  
"She isn't the only one," Snape said. "There were raised some very interesting things about Craig, as well."  
He explained what he had learned from Angel about what had transpired between Voldemort and Craig. He explained about the strange, grotesque change of Craig's face. And lastly, he through in the word taedia. Upon the sound of the word, Dumbledore flinched.  
"I had hoped that wasn't the case," he said. "Though I had guessed that it might be."  
"Do you want to tell us what a 'taedia' is, exactly?" Buffy asked.  
So Dumbledore explained. "Taedia were once the dominant race on this planet, in the years between demon rule and human," Dumbledore said. "They had a profound connection with the dead that was, and still is, unsurpassed. Taedia were...vicious creatures. They enjoyed killing more than anything else, because death, to them, was as common a thing as life.  
"The taedia were killed off before man could formally take over this planet, about five thousand years ago. No one is quite sure how, or even why it happened. There is a legend of a demon prince who led a crusade against them. However, it is unreliable at best.  
"All we do know is that there are no taedia left in the world. Except for possibly Craig."  
"And how is it possible, exactly?" Giles asked.  
"I haven't a clue," Dumbledore admitted. "To the best of my, and everyone else's, for that matter, knowledge, the entire taedia race has been dead for four millennia."  
Silence followed this. Those gathered mulled over the information they had just heard. Finally, Giles spoke. "The Lake ritual worked?"  
Snape's smile was full of bitterness. "Yes," he said. "And my cover is blown completely."  
"Then it would appear that the mission was a failure," Dumbledore said. "And we are left with several unsettling questions, not the least of which being, can we trust Craig and Willow?"  
No one could find an answer.  
  
A week later, the infirmary had cleared of everyone save Craig. The youngest of those to journey into Voldemort's stronghold stayed bed ridden much longer than his companions had. The wound on his head, though not life threatening, had left him weakened more than he'd expected.  
As he lay, he reflected on the how incredibly bored he had become. The boredom felt welcome; while here, he didn't have any opportunity to mutate and go crazy.  
He balled a fist. He'd been in some bad situations; he'd watched his friends murdered, hadn't he? He gazed at his fist. If he'd been able to call up that power at the AWA...then he'd be dead now, too.  
A large part of him didn't mind that scenario at all.  
Dumbledore entered the Hospital Wing. "Hello, Craig," he said.  
Craig didn't look up. He didn't know what he would see in the Headmaster's eyes, and he didn't want to take the chance at finding out. So he just looked down at his fist and gave a small, growled greeting.  
"You seem stronger," Dumbledore offered, gazing, too, at Craig's balled fist.  
"And there's a big problem in the making, right?" Craig asked, overcome suddenly by all that had happened to him.  
Dumbledore sat down in a chair near Craig's bed. The man looked old. "Craig, I just wanted to ask you..."  
He didn't get to finish. "What am I?" Craig asked. "I've been doing these things my whole life, fighting evil, bending reality, defying the laws of physics...now, I want to know how. I want to know what I am."  
Dumbledore sighed. This was going to be unpleasant. "You are what Voldemort told you," he said. "As near as I can tell, and I have performed several tests in the last week to verify it, you are a taedia."  
"And what is that?" Craig asked.  
Dumbledore related to Craig what he had told the others. When he was done, Craig looked around the room, as if there were others there with them.  
"Isn't that great? He answers the question without actually answering it! I love it, don't you?"  
"Craig," Dumbledore began. "There is no way, now, to know where you came from. It just isn't possible. Your parents are dead, and Whistler is gone again."  
"My parents aren't dead," Craig said, suddenly.  
"Excuse me?" Dumbledore said.  
"My parents aren't dead," Craig said. "I've never heard a word from them, and if they were dead, they'd talk to me..."  
"Think for a moment, Craig," Dumbledore said. "People that you know to be dead have refused to speak to you before."  
There was a pause. Craig's face twisted into a horrible grimace. "Skye," he said.  
"We're looking into your background now," Dumbledore said. "Until we learn more, though, I think you should stop seeing the DA. If your powers go out of control again..."  
He rose quickly and left.  
"Bullshit," Craig said.  
  
Three days later, he was out of the Hospital Wing. He spent more time outside again, getting back into the harmony of nature that had so eluded him for a week.  
He wanted to feel in tune with things again. He wanted to feel connected. He wanted an escape. So naturally, an escape was not forthcoming for long enough to make Craig think he was going to go insane.  
It was on that third day that Harry approached Craig on the grounds. "Hello," Harry said, trying not to seem too awkward.  
"Hi," Craig said shortly.  
There was a pause. Harry considered what he'd wanted to say and found that he couldn't quite remember what it was. So he plunged ahead, thinking that the Craig somehow inspired the direct approach. "We want you to come back to the DA," he said.  
"We?" Craig asked, bemusedly.  
"After last time, everyone was really excited about where we could go. But we can't do any of that without you."  
"You might be surprised," Craig said. "Besides, there's only so much I can teach you. Your power works differently than mine."  
Harry ignored this. The American could still teach them a lot. "We want you back," Harry repeated.  
Craig regarded him for a moment. "Sure," Craig said, deciding that Dumbledore's orders could go to hell. "When's the next meeting?"  
"Tonight," Harry said, smiling. "Eight."  
"I'll be there," Craig replied. He didn't look at Harry as the young man went back up to the castle.  
  
That night, in the Room of Requirement, Craig once more stood before the DA. He'd spent the afternoon considering what he was going to say to students, and what he was going to teach them, and how he was going to do it. He settled on the early warning. Always useful.  
"When you're fighting multiple enemies, one of the most fundamental things you have to understand is that your going to be getting hit from different directions all at once. You can't allow yourself to get hit in nine cases out of ten, because a hit means your dead.  
"This technique is a fairly old one, used by Roman Legionaries when they still used magic. It's an early warning sense that tells you when something is trying to hurt you."  
Craig paused there and called for a volunteer. Surprisingly few were surprised when Neville volunteered. As Neville climbed up onto Craig's platform, Craig drew out a sword from the scabbard on his back.  
"This sword is enchanted," he said. "I invented the spell myself. The sword radiates harmful intention."  
Craig turned to Neville. "I'm going to attack you in a minute," he said. Neville gulped. "I want you to focus on the sword. Focus on it until you can't feel anything else."  
Neville nodded and closed his eyes. Craig waited a moment as Neville focused his entire mind on the sword. When he had felt that enough time had passed, Craig raised the sword and swung it at Neville.  
Neville didn't move. Craig stopped the sword an inch from Neville's face, the blade quivering right in front of his face. Neville opened his eyes, surprised to find the sword right there in front of him.  
"Well, that worked well," Zacharias Smith muttered.  
"Actually, it did," Craig said, grinning nastily as he turned back to the crowd.  
"What?" Smith asked. "But he didn't even know the sword was right there!"  
"Quite right," Craig said. "It wasn't about the sword. It was about the feeling of being attacked when you don't where it's coming from, or when. When Neville focused on the sword, he was focusing on the sword's natural violent intent. He felt that intent swell up when I swung the sword at him. It was only natural that he didn't react - he didn't know what he was feeling, because I didn't tell him. But now he knows."  
"I get it," Neville said. He stepped forward, in front of Craig. "I really get it. That's what attack feels like. Amazing. I..."  
Craig swung the sword at him from behind. Neville jumped, without seeing what was going on.  
"Good!" Craig shouted at Neville, who now lay, dazed, at the foot of the platform. Craig jumped down to join him. "You felt the attack coming. You didn't know what to do about it, but you felt it. That's good! Come on, who's next?"  
  
When it was over, and everyone had left, Harry stood with Craig and looked at the Room of Requirement. Both young men thought the room needed cleaning after the constant attacking, and as was in its nature, the room began to clean itself as the need was apparent.  
"I've been lying to them," Craig said.  
"I beg your pardon?" Harry said, slightly aghast at such a statement.  
"I've been lying to them," Craig said. "Or not telling the whole truth. The Longbottom kid, he said it last time. He said that he though that what was happening was that he was gaining complete knowledge of things. That was just him being na•ve. You can never completely know something. It's just not possible, and that's a fact of reality in all its forms. No, its not knowledge - its power. It's blood. It's belief, and it's strength. That's what does all those things. Not knowledge."  
"So why don't you tell them that?" Harry asked.  
"Because not everyone has the power," Craig said. "Not everyone has the strength. Half your DA probably doesn't have it. The other half has the potential, like you and Longbottom. But tapping it is painful. This stuff that we've done so far only scratches the surface. The rest, if we get into it, is much more demanding."  
"How so?" Harry asked, now worried a bit.  
"You can all sense an attack now," Craig said. "So what? You know that someone is about to kill you. What are you going to do about it? Are you going to dodge it? Will you parry it? Can you even parry it, or is it something that can't be parried? Where is the enemy? What is the enemy? How do you kill it?"  
Harry felt his head spin a bit as he tried to take it all in. Craig nodded, seeing the look on his face. "It's not so easy, is it? You can't think about it. You just do. See? Knowledge has nothing to do with it."  
Harry wanted to change the subject, cause this was getting to difficult to rap his brain around. "How are you doing?" he asked, grasping at one of the most general questions.  
Craig gave him a look. Then he shrugged. "Fine," he said. "Better. Not good, but okay enough to get by and do some good. I could use a break from all this, though."  
He glanced out the window, and was struck by a sudden, brilliant plan.  
"Go get Ginny," Craig said to Harry. "We're going out tonight."  
  
Was that too short? Was there enough? Oh, and I'm terribly sorry that its taken so long to get out. I've been through Hell and back a couple dozen times in the last month. Finals, and my coworker's mother passed away, so I had to pick up the slack at work, and the kids I was taking care of trashed our office, so my job is in question...yeah, its been rough. See you all next time. 


	24. The TwentyFourth Chapter

Okay then. Yeah. Another chapter. Gotcha. Here it comes.  
  
"Where are we going?" Harry asked, in confusion.  
"You ever been to a club?" Craig responded, leaving the room, with Harry hurrying to keep up.  
"No," Harry replied, drawing level with Craig. "The Dursley's wouldn't have ever allowed me to do something that could even be misconstrued as fun."  
"Well, we're going out to relax tonight," Craig said.  
Harry stopped, grabbing Craig's arm. Craig jumped. "Sorry," Harry said quickly. "But how do you expect to do this?"  
"Public transportation out of Hogsmeade," Craig explained. "It'll be easy to trick the guard and get a quick portkey to London."  
"No," Harry said. "It's not safe in the city."  
Craig looked at him, incredulously. "You're kidding, right?" he asked. "After all the danger you've been through, you're not willing to risk a little bit to be able to relax?"  
"I wouldn't be very relaxed, thinking that Voldemort could come jumping out of a closet at me," Harry pointed out.  
"There is no way Creepozoid would ever figure out that you're in town," Craig said. "We'll go to a muggle club, since those are better anyway. Muggles get so much angrier than wizards, it makes the dancing more fun. Now, I'm going to do this with or without you, so you'd better make up your mind now."  
Harry thought it over. What were the chances that Voldemort would find out that he was away from Hogwarts for one night? And it had been so long since he'd done something purely for the sake of fun - he'd been the good little soldier for long enough, it was time for a break.  
"Okay," he said. "But we're going to be careful."  
"Of course," Craig said. Harry got the distinct impression that Craig didn't know the meaning of the word 'careful'.  
  
Five minutes later, Harry had dragged a confused Ginny down out of Gryffindor Tower to the Entrance Hall, where Craig waited. He'd donned a trench coat to cover the black trousers and sweater he always wore. "Ready to go?" he asked.  
"Go where?" Ginny asked, in some exasperation. Harry grinned sheepishly.  
"Fill her in on the way there," Craig said.  
They left, Harry telling the plan to Ginny on the way. They passed through the gates of Hogwarts just as Harry finished outlining the plan. To his surprise, Ginny smiled at him.  
"You are kidding, right?" she asked.  
"No," Harry replied, seriously.  
"Oh," Ginny said. She didn't know what to say for a moment. "Are you crazy, then?"  
"Look, kiddo, we either go or we don't," Craig said. "And we're already off school property, so why not throw in the whole way?"  
Ginny looked at Harry, and for just an instant, she seemed a bit like the child she once was. "Are you sure about this?" she asked.  
"Would I be doing it if I weren't?" Harry asked.  
"Yes," Ginny said, but her smile revealed that she was teasing. Partially.  
They'd entered Hogsmeade. "Stick to the shadows," Craig advised. "I'll see about making us a bit more inconspicuous."  
They kept advancing through the darkness, walking at a quick pace that didn't betray much noise. They were, obviously, trying to avoid attracting too much attention. Luckily, the inhabitants of the streets of Hogsmeade at this later hour were all slightly to largely drunk, and paid about as much attention to the them as could be expected of drunken happy people.  
In short order and without incident, they reached the small platform that transported people to and from the village of Hogsmeade. The security wasn't very tight - there was one aging security guard, not even a troll. Every hour he would push a small button on his consol and whoosh! Off would go another small convoy of people bound for the capital city of Britain. It was boring duty, and he was half asleep doing it.  
It took no trouble for Craig to sneak himself, Harry and Ginny aboard.  
The crowd they stood with on the small, circular metallic platform was not large or bustling. Most of them were workers heading home for the day; why they didn't take up residence in the village was a mystery to Harry, since it had to be a bother doing things this way now.  
After a few slightly tense minutes of waiting to see if they would be caught, Harry and the others felt a familiar jerk behind their navels.  
The portkey, which apparently was the platform itself, deposited its passengers in a long, low hall in London.  
As they all picked themselves up (all but Craig and Ginny had fallen down), Craig whispered in Harry's ear, "I know the place. Follow me."  
He led them out of the hall and onto a street. Upon looking back at the door they'd just passed through, Harry discovered that it was actually a parking meter.  
What a strange sense of humor these wizards have, Harry thought.  
Craig led them surely up the street. "So, how exactly do you know where this place is?" Harry asked.  
"I do too much reading," Craig responded.  
"Reading what?" Ginny asked.  
"Stuff," Craig offered, unhelpfully.  
"You must be a nightmare at twenty questions," Harry grumbled.  
Craig turned a corner, and they passed out of a business district and entered a residential section.  
"I've never been to the British slums before," Craig said. "Funny. They're not too different from American slums. I guess that all poverty really is created equal."  
This drew a blank look from both Harry and Ginny. Craig sighed. "I guess that Constitution jokes are lost on Brits, huh? Yeah, I'm better without the humor. Its just that I've got some rowdy dead comedians acting up right now..."  
Now the blank looks turned into looks of slight disgust. Craig tried to cover for it. "Well, you know, dead comedians are better than some of the crackpots I have to listen to. Hitler, Stalin, Mussolini, Wilhelm, Napoleon, Ivaan the Terrible..."  
Now the looks of slight disgust became looks of complete disgust. Craig blustered a bit, trying and failing to come up with something. "Nice weather we've been having, huh?" he asked.  
Thankfully, they reached the club shortly thereafter. The grimy neon sign in the front proclaimed the name of the place to be "Bang Bang Boom".  
The three looked at each other. Harry and Ginny turned to Craig with suspicious looks. "Hey, its your country," he said.  
They entered. The door fee was non existent - they'd come on a free entry night. Getting through the first door, they got into the main club.  
Harry and Ginny had never seen anything like it. Their Hogwarts uniforms, minus the robes, were drastically out of place in the mass of scanty to nonexistent clothing. Craig seemed closer to the general dress code, completely wrapped in black as he was. The vicious grin was back in place. Craig breathed in the smell of the place: sweaty and hot.  
"Home sweet home," he muttered.  
He descended quickly onto the dance floor, leaving both Harry and Ginny standing dumb struck, wondering why on Earth they'd ever agreed to this.  
"Why on Earth did we ever agree to this?" Harry asked.  
Ginny just shook her head.  
"Shall we try and find a table?" Harry asked, and she nodded, not trusting her voice to rise above the enormous amount of noise being made by the band on stage.  
The club was a hazy place, the smoke mostly created by dry ice and haze machines. There was so much of it that Harry and Ginny both silently questioned whether or not smoke detectors were installed in the place. Neither of the two Hogwarts students could guess how the building had ever passed an inspection by the board of health. The floor of the place was in unfinished concrete. Wooden boards covered parts of the floor. The walls had probably started out as some form of metal painted black, but ages of spray paint had turned the walls into a more florescent mixture of colors. The stage, which was set into the back wall where the ceiling began to curve downwards, was covered in lighting equipment, which projected strange images into the foggy haze over and amidst the dance floor. The tables sat on a raised platform above and to the left of the stage, overlooking both it and the dance floor.   
The whole place appeared as though it hadn't been cleaned in either of the two Gryffindors' lifetimes.  
Neither of them were prepared for the club. They were at least vaguely aware that such houses of debauchery existed; it was common knowledge that, if not spoken, was at least understood. But the reality of it was quite different.  
The two students made their way up to the platform upon which the tables rested. A bar on the far side sold drinks to kids using 'real' ID's; a lot of them never made it off the platform, because they passed out before leaving. Harry and Ginny selected a table set as far from both the dance floor and the bar as possible.  
"Why did we agree to this?" Ginny asked Harry, staring in horror at a girl whose shirt was ripped in several revealing locations.  
"We were going to have fun," Harry offered, turning distinctly red when he saw what Ginny saw.  
"Having fun yet?" Ginny asked him, shouting over the incredibly loud metal assaulting their ears from the lower level.  
"Not really," Harry replied back. "Actually, I wouldn't mind leaving now."  
"Neither would I," Ginny said, obviously relieved. "Come on, let's find Craig."  
They rose quickly from their seats and headed for the stairs. Unfortunately, a couple of older kids had spotted their out of place clothing and facial expressions and had decided to have a bit of fun with them.  
Three college aged boys and a girl who couldn't have been much older than Ginny stepped in front of them, blocking the stairs. Believing that it was an accident, Harry endeavored to go around them, but they shifted, grinning maliciously, to block him.  
"Hey, kiddies," one of them said. "How's it going?"  
Harry didn't know what to say. The guy who was addressing him wore dark, baggy clothing and had several dozen body piercings. "Uh..." Harry stammered a bit. "Not too bad, I suppose. We're actually just leaving..."  
"No you're not," one of the others, a man with straight black hair and a long goatee said. "You just got here. You're going to have some fun, and so are we."  
Harry groaned. "Where have I heard that before?" he said to himself.  
The girl stepped forward and looked Ginny up and down. "I love the costume," she said. "Getting in touch with your inner school girl, it most turn him on like crazy. Tell me, does he fuck you in that or do you take it all off first?"  
Both Harry and Ginny were dumbstruck for a moment. Then Ginny blushed furiously. Harry was furious too, but he wasn't blushing. "I think you really should leave us alone now," he said, through clenched teeth.  
"Oh, you are a prude, mate!" the final college boy said. "You're here in the best club in all of London, and you get all upset over a little question like that? Come on, we're just making nice."  
Harry attempted to shove past them. "Make nice somewhere else," he said.  
The malicious grins disappeared off the young men's faces. "Maybe we don't want to," Goatee said.  
Piercings grabbed Ginny by the shoulder, and she yelped loudly. Of course, in the mass chaos of the club, no one cared. Ginny shook herself free quickly.  
"Look, I don't want to have to hurt you, annoying as you may be," she said. The boys laughed out loud.  
"Hurt us?" they said. "Oh, I think we're going to be the ones doing the hurting, bitch."  
The girl with them laughed as well. "Fine," she said. "But I get him." She pointed as Harry.  
Ginny took a swing at her. Despite all her training, she forgot for a moment her Slayer strength, and she knocked the girl flying halfway across the room.  
The other boys turned quickly serious. "You're going to pay for that one, slut!" They launched themselves at Ginny.  
Goatee came in first, taking a big swing at Ginny with his right fist. She sidestepped him quickly and easily, hooking his arm with her own, and using his momentum and her own super strength, applied gruesome pressure to his arm. It popped out of its socket.  
Dropping Goatee to the floor to deal with is new arm problems, Ginny turned back just in time to get hit in the face with a chair. Dazed by the force of the blow, Ginny sunk to one knee. She rolled away underneath a table to regroup.  
Meanwhile, Harry had run to the side of the platform upon which the tables were. He had decided to try and get Craig, but the problem was that the stairs were still blocked by the goons, and a crowd was being drawn, congesting things. So, while Ginny dodged around the tables, trying to get her bearings back after the chair shot, Harry made a decision.  
He took a quick, steadying breath and launched himself over the side of the railing, down fifteen feet onto the dance floor.  
Later, Harry wouldn't be completely sure what broke his fall; regardless of what it was, though, a second later, he was crowd surfing. It wasn't a deliberate thing; he would have rather walked. However, getting down was a problem, as he discovered quickly.  
Instead, Harry scanned the crowd as he passed over it. After a minute or two of searching, he head a sharp laugh and a voice call out, over the music, "Thattaboy, Harry! Have a little fun!"  
"Craig!" Harry yelled, as loud as he could. "Ginny's in trouble!"  
Craig was by him instantly, helping Harry down off the crowd. "Where?" he asked. His eyes were alight with fire.  
"Up on the platform, near the tables," Harry said, breathing heavily from his surfing ordeal. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Craig was gone.  
Harry pushed his way through the crowd in time to see Craig, who had apparently jumped from the floor up onto the platform, hit one of the thugs from behind. Heartened by the evening of the odds, Ginny stopped her charade and attacked the final jerk.  
In the face of Craig and Ginny, two people who were obviously too strong for them to deal with, the remaining goons backed down, throwing up their arms and declaring defeat. Ginny stopped her attack immediately, and it had appeared as though Craig had, as well, when he suddenly whirled back on the Piercings and grabbed him, tossing him over the railing and onto the dance floor.  
"Who's next?" He asked, viciously. He was breathing heavily, though the exertion of throwing the thug couldn't have been all that hard on Craig. "Come on! Step up! I want a fight!"  
Harry walked cautiously up to Craig and laid a hand on the other boy's shoulder. Craig turned, snarling. "Craig," Harry said, more than a little freaked out. "Come on, let's get out of here."  
Craig relaxed a little, but the glow in his eyes didn't go anywhere. "Sure," he said. "I've had enough for one night, anyway."  
As he headed down the stairs, the crowd parted for him, and Harry and Ginny followed in his wake. They, and not him, cast a single worried glance toward Piercings, who hadn't been caught by the crowd and lay with his leg bent at a strange angle.  
Then the three were back out on the street. "Craig, what was that all about?" Harry asked.  
"What?" Craig asked.  
"That guy had given up, that's what! And you threw him over a railing!"  
"So? He was the bad guy," Craig replied, shrugging it off as though it were nothing.  
Harry and Ginny cast worried looks at each other behind Craig's back. And, what made them even more nervous was that he didn't notice.  
  
Getting back to Hogwarts was easy enough. Though security was heavier for people trying to get into Hogsmeade, they were no match for Craig's intelligence and stealth. They wouldn't have been a match for his violence either, but luckily, Harry and Ginny managed to rein him in.  
As they walked back up the lawn, the darkness a bit oppressive, Craig turned away from the path to the castle. "I'm heading into the forest to go hunting. You two in?"  
Harry looked at him in utter incredulity. "You have got to be joking," he said. "After all that..."  
"It got me going a bit, and now I need a few kills before bed time," Craig said. "Come on, it'll be fun."  
"Thanks, we've had enough fun for tonight," Ginny said, and, grabbing Harry's arm, she marched up to the castle. Craig shrugged and turned back to the forest.  
Once back inside the castle, Harry and Ginny had to be careful not to make too much noise. Mrs. Norris and Filch were always out on the prowl at this hour, whatever hour this was; and getting caught by either was the kind of unpleasant experience that no student wished to go through more than never.  
Their luck held in this, at least; no sign of Filch or his cat turned up at any point. Harry and Ginny quickly gained the Common Room, receiving a knowing smile from the Fat Lady on the way.  
"Oh, just so long as you were being careful about it, don't worry - all the kids are doing that nowadays," she said, with slight reproachfulness.  
"Doing what..." Harry began, but then he saw the state of himself and Ginny. Both had been involved in several small physical ordeals that night, and they were roughed up just enough to give the appearance of...  
"Oh, why does everyone seem to think that about us!" Harry yelled, and pulled Ginny into the portrait hole, leaving the Fat Lady looking a bit puzzled.  
Harry immediately sat down, hard, on his favorite couch. Ginny sat down next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. "What time is it?" She asked.  
Harry glanced at the clock and winced. "Three in the morning," he said. "Hard to believe we were out that long, isn't it? Oh, well - I'm heading to bed."  
Harry began to rise, but Ginny called him back. "Harry, there's something we have to talk about," she said to him.  
He came back around the couch and sat down again, with Ginny facing him. "What?" he asked.  
"Well, what everyone keeps saying about us..." Ginny said. "What they think we've been doing..."  
Harry blushed. "We haven't been doing," he finished. "There's nothing to worry about, Ginny."  
"Oh, I know that," she said. "I would have noticed if we'd..." she faltered, searching for an appropriate verb, and finally just giving up on it. "But that's not the point."  
"Then what is?" Harry asked, somewhat bewildered. What was this all about?  
"Well," Ginny said, nervousness etching itself across her face in a pattern only Harry could read. "Have you ever thought about doing...it?"  
Harry's blush returned a bit. "I don't know," he said. Ginny gave him a severe look through her own nervousness. "Well, sure, okay, I have," he admitted. "But never seriously, Ginny. I have too much respect for you to pull anything like that."  
Ginny seemed even more hesitant to pull the next words from her mouth. "But, what if I wanted you to..." She cut herself off.  
Harry looked closer at her, but she kept her face hidden. "Ginny, what are you saying?" he asked.  
"It's this Slayer thing!" she said. "Something about it...I don't know...makes me more..."  
"Oh," Harry said, cutting her off before she had more trouble finding an appropriate word for an inappropriate subject. "Well, I...that's....um..."  
"Yeah, my thoughts exactly," Ginny said, miserably.  
Harry turned to think for a moment. On the one hand, there was the fact that they were both awfully young for such an intimate connection - but they weren't that young anymore. He was sixteen. She was fifteen. Both had been forced to grow up really fast in the last few years. They weren't children.  
Which was why he had to do the mature thing here. Deciding once today that he'd had enough of maturity had already had disastrous results, and Harry wasn't eager to make an even bigger mistake. "We're not ready for that, Ginny," he said. "I love you, but I don't think that it would be a good idea for us to have sex until we're older."  
Ginny smiled a little. "You're right," she said. "What would I do without you?"  
"Let's never find out," Harry said, drawing her into his arms. In moments, they were asleep.  
  
They dreamt together again. The same dream as before. They met. They kissed. Ron staked Harry. And Harry turned to dust. They awoke at the same time, harshly, and looked at each other. Neither said anything.  
  
As Craig walked back to his usual sleeping tree, he wiped the demon's blood off of his face. It had been a messy kill. It had been a good kill.  
He felt sated for now. There would be another urge to kill later, but the forest was full of demons. It wouldn't be all that hard to find another one.  
As he approached his tree, he became aware of someone in it. He looked up and grinned. "I would have paid money to watch you climb up there," said Craig.  
Dumbledore didn't smile back. "Why did you do it, Craig?" he asked.  
Craig jumped. He easily made it to the branch upon which Dumbledore sat. "Cause," he said. "We all needed a little fun."  
"That wasn't the only reason, though, was it?" Dumbledore asked.  
Craig sighed. The smile left him. "No," he said. "It wasn't."  
"What was it you were trying to test?" Dumbledore asked.  
Craig was resigned to this. He would have much rather gone about directing Harry and Ginny without Dumbledore's interference; but Dumbledore had been making plans for Harry for the better part of two decades, so Craig had to defer.  
"Sex," he said. "Seeing how strong their relationship is when they get that thrown in their faces."  
Dumbledore frowned. "You could have done that easily enough here," he said. "Why go to all the trouble?"  
"Because," Craig said, impatiently, "they know everyone here. They would either dismiss it as being something that nosy person would say, or they would question why someone would ask them that rather than think about it truly. By hiring some dumb whore to say it to them, it shocked them a bit. It made them think."  
Dumbledore thought about it a bit. Then he nodded. "Fine," he said. "I have left this up to you. Remember, though, that I am in charge of this overall, and that you should always okay things with me first."  
"Of course," Craig said, but he didn't believe it. Perhaps Dumbledore knew that. As far as Craig was considered, that didn't matter. Dumbledore left, jumping down to the ground, and Craig was left alone in his tree. He was asleep minutes later.  
  
Faith arose the next morning and, dressing quickly, walked outside. A beautiful day was beginning. She left the barracks behind her and headed down to the field to begin getting the Slayer training course ready for the day.  
In the weeks since Buffy's arrival back, Faith had taken to getting things ready each morning. No one else would do it, and rather than take time out of training to have the trainee's set things up, she would do it.  
They had amassed quite a bit of neat stuff. A lot of it was junk, if you asked Faith, but some of it proved useful. Every day, she checked over the obstacle course to make sure that it hadn't been damaged somehow; a damaged obstacle course presented dangers that they didn't need to deal with. Everything was in order.  
Training was, as usual, the usual thing. The Slayers had fallen into a constant routine. However, one person was missing.  
"Where's Maria?" Faith asked. "This is her day for target practice; you'd think she wouldn't want to miss that."  
A couple of the girls cast uncertain looks at each other. "She's...a bit indisposed," one of them said, eventually.  
"I don't think she was feeling well this morning," said another.  
Faith looked around at the looks on the girls' faces. Then she smiled. "I understand that you want to cover for your friend. Don't. It'll just make things worse. Where is she?"  
The girls hung their heads. "Back in her room," they said, eventually.  
Faith nodded and left. She wasn't particularly mad at the girls; she'd have done the same thing for a friend. It was good to see that the new Slayers were developing a sense of camaraderie.  
It didn't help in this situation, though.  
Maria Grieta was going to be a problem. Giles and Shannon had both said it. Buffy said it later. So did Faith. In fact, everyone in a position to say so said so. Maria Grieta was going to be a problem.  
So why were they being so lenient with her? Why did they seem surprised when she did end up being a problem? Faith didn't know the answers to those questions. The old her, the murdering, crazy bitch her, wouldn't have even asked the questions. She'd grown as a person just enough to know that the questions were there.  
Faith entered the barracks just as Giles was leaving. He was decked out in padding from his head to his foot, and was waddling more than he was walking.  
"What's up with the suit?" Faith asked.  
"I'm teaching fundamental aikido and capoiera today," he replied. "What are you doing back in?"  
"Maria," Faith said. Giles groaned. "She didn't show up for target practice."  
Giles sighed. Then he grinned a bit. "Don't go too hard on the girl, Faith," he said. "Try not to kill her, eh?"  
"Not funny," Faith said. She kept walking.  
Maria's room was near the middle of the front row on the second floor of the barracks. Faith didn't bother to knock. Instead, she opened the door and walked in.  
Maria was asleep on her bed. She had definitely fallen asleep quickly and without planning, because the joint was still lying on her chest, where it had fallen.  
"Wake up!" Faith said sharply.  
Nothing.  
Faith walked over to Maria and punched her in the arm. Still nothing.  
Faith grinned to herself. Okay, the girl wanted to do this? Fine, she'd pay the consequences.  
Faith left and returned a few minutes later with a bucket of icy water. She unceremoniously poured the freezing water over the head of Maria.  
Needless to say, Maria woke up in a hurry. She didn't know where she was at first, or what was going on, but she did know that the sensation of frigid water dousing her still partially unconscious body was deeply unpleasant. She bolted out of bed.  
"What...?" she asked.  
"You overslept," Faith said. "Mighta had something to do with this." She held up the joint, which was now a bit soggy.  
"Oh, shit," Maria said.  
"Yeah, that about sums it up," Faith responded. "Let's go see Buffy."  
  
"You brought drugs here?" Buffy yelled. "Here? We're training an army to fight a huge war against enormous odds, and you bring drugs into the camp?"  
"Yeah," Maria muttered. She refused to look up and meet Buffy's eyes. Faith flexed a hand. This was even worse than she'd expected.  
Good.  
"Tell me," Buffy said, standing up behind her desk and crossing around it. "Do you believe in anything you've been taught here, Maria?"  
"What?" Maria asked, still unable to look up.  
"Sacred duty," Buffy said. "Do you know that you have one? Do you know that you're supposed to be a savior of the people? Are you aware that a lot of lives depend on all of us, including you? Can you understand that, in a fight, I need to know that I can rely on all of you, because if I can't, we all die? Do you understand me?"  
"Yes," Maria muttered.  
"I don't think you do," Buffy said. "Or else this wouldn't be happening."  
"Have you ever been addicted to anything?" Maria burst out.  
"No," Buffy said, truthfully.  
"It's not like all that stuff you've had," Maria said, finally meeting Buffy's eyes. "A normal, upper middle class life, then a sacred duty, and now this. I had nothing. So I got hooked. You don't just get unhooked. Doesn't work like that, chica."  
Buffy wasn't impressed. "You're going to kick this thing," she said. "Or you're going to leave. Your choice."  
They'd hit a standoff. Seeing that they were losing Maria quickly, Faith jumped in. "Maria, you never had much. Neither did I. But I've got something now. You can too, if you stay, and you can be free of the addiction, too. Doesn't that sound okay?"  
Maria looked over at Faith. "I suppose it does," she said.  
"Then stay," Faith said. "Please."  
Maria considered for a while. Then she nodded. "Okay," she said. "I'll stay."  
"Good," Faith said. "Now get out into the yard and take some target practice with the others."  
Maria left.  
"Why did you do that?" Buffy asked. "Convince her to stay? It was her choice."  
"I didn't change that," Faith said. "I just helped her make the right one. Maybe I have a soft spot for Slayers who make the wrong choices. You can understand that, right?"  
"Yeah, I can understand that," Buffy said. "Keep Maria in line, and I'll understand it better."  
Faith nodded to her and left. It was all she could do to keep from saluting.  
  
Hmmm. Not bad, right? PLEASE, oh PLEASE, leave me some feedback. Just write a quick little review! Please oh please oh PRETTY please? I need reviews to keep writing. 


	25. The TwentyFifth Chapter

Thanks for all the reviews. The dream...I'll elaborate on that one soon enough, but you won't really get it completely until the end. Dawn...I don't like Dawn. Mostly, I think she should die. Or boil in a pit of her own blood. Either way, she's not in this fic. Cause I don't like her. And there will be more Craig. This story is as much Craig's as it is Harry's.  
  
Krum surveyed his class. Harry returned the look, perhaps defiantly, perhaps not. He'd considered himself the equal of Viktor Krum for two years now - Krum's status as Harry's teacher hadn't changed that.  
"We will be having an observer join us today," he said, in his usual deep accent. "I believe that some of you already know Faith, the Vampire Slayer?"  
There were nods around the room. Faith stepped forward and gave a little wave to Harry, who was in the back row with Ron and Hermione.  
Harry leaned back in his chair to cover up the fact that he was talking. "I wonder why she's here?" he asked, earnestly, because he liked Faith and didn't mind having her around. Maybe she would balance out his almost-dislike of Krum.  
"I don't know," Hermione said. Ron gave a little mock gasp.  
"You've gone and done it! Ruined my hypothesis that you know everything!"  
Hermione kicked Ron under the table. It wasn't a very painful kick, partially due to the fact that Ron and Hermione were also holding hands under the table.  
Krum hadn't gone on yet. Harry had discovered that Durmstrang had given Krum a hard resolve towards teaching - though he felt bad about what he'd put the class through so far, it didn't really phase him all that often. Now, he was nervous.  
"Something big is up," Harry said, but neither of his friends heard him.  
"We will be doing some hands on work today," Krum said. He nodded to Faith. "If you will follow us out to the grounds, we will be conducting class in the new training center."  
The class rose and filed out. Now Hermione and Ron were worried too. "Didn't they just build that thing for high risk training for the military forces?" Hermione asked.  
"Yeah," Harry said. "That's what it was supposed to be for."  
They walked in silence out to the grounds. The class had long been mute for DADA. Krum didn't insist on silence - he seemed to make up for the torturous nature of his class by not being too overly strict with them, like McGonagall or Snape - but the class had learned that the wrong word during a dangerous incantation can have disastrous results. Such an accident had occurred early in the year, but luckily, Madame Pomfrey had been able to remove the boils from Seamus' eyes. There were lasting effects, though - he would lose visual focus at twilight for the rest of his life.  
The training center was built next to the Slayer training grounds, between them and the barracks. None of the students had been allowed inside it, so they didn't know what to expect.  
When they entered, Harry, Neville, Hermione, and Ron all gasped. "The Department of Mysteries!" they all said.  
"It was modeled after your Department of Mysteries, yes," Krum said. "However, there are a few fundamental differences. It won't spin, and the doors are all marked and unlocked. We'll be going this way," he gestured towards a specific, drab gray door. Printed in sharp black on it was 'Danger Simulation Room'.  
The class walked inside, flanked by Krum and Faith. In its three days of operation, the DSR had been left running already once, with nasty results for the next group that came in to train. Luckily, the thing was off.  
"What is this place?" Dean Thomas asked, expressing the wonder of the crowd.  
The DSR was a huge, cavernous room, obviously enlarged magically, with black, seemingly padded walls. When Ron attempted to touch one of the walls, it shimmered and let his hand through. He pulled it back sharply.  
"It's on fire!" he yelled, nursing his hand. "Oh, this hurts like hell," he added.  
Krum shook his head. "Look, don't touch, Weasley," he said. He stepped back to the entrance and opened the door. "Outside, now."  
Ron stepped back out the door, intent on the Hospital Wing. He stopped immediately after clearing the door. He turned back and, amazedly, showed them his now healthy hand.  
"Whatever this room does to you is being simulated by the room," Krum explained, as Ron stepped back in. "As soon as you leave, it can't influence you or anything else any more.  
"This is a combat simulation chamber, similar to the one used by Aurors in London. It can be configured to produce any scenario. There's a list of the preprogrammed ones on the door.  
"We will be working a simple one; a Japanese dojo. You will each fight a demon chosen at random from the list we have studied already. Consider this a pop quiz.  
"Oh, and don't forget; this may be a simulator, but it still hurts, as was demonstrated by Mr. Weasley. The safety is on right now, so it'll stop before it will kill you, but you are still in danger of injury."  
Krum stepped back and punched a button on the wall. The button turned from the same black as everything else to a glowing red. The air shimmered, and a second later, the black padding was replaced by a dojo.  
The class took seats on the bleachers on one wall. Krum addressed those sitting. "As long as you are on these bleachers, the demons cannot see or affect you," he explained. "Faith is here to help if anything goes wrong. I will call you each one by one. Mr. Thomas, you will start us off. Good luck."  
Krum sat as Dean stood up. He stepped down uneasily. He was obviously not pleased to have been selected to be the first one.  
The class watched in fascination as Krum pulled out a sheaf of parchment. On it, he wrote something that none of them could see. A moment later, a demon appeared.  
A banshee! The banshee opened its mouth and let out a blood-curdling scream. Those on the bleachers heard the censored version, not loud enough to hurt, but Dean got the full blast of it. An adult banshee could kill with its scream in a matter of minutes, and they could scream non stop for hours.  
Dean collapsed. He hit the floor, but managed to stay on his knees. His hands flew to his ears, but remembered at the last second not to. Skin only amplified the banshee's cry.  
Dean took a moment to steady himself, and slowly, painfully, stood. The banshee's wail increased in volume, making Dean sway, but he kept his balance this time. He raised his wand, and through the din, managed a quick spell. "Quietus," he croaked out.  
The banshee immediately quieted down. The noise coming from its throat was no longer deadly or even harmful. It choked a bit, trying to regain its volume, but Dean's spell was not easily broken. He didn't waste time, either. After regaining his composure, he sent a quick Stunner towards the banshee. It dropped to the ground, unconscious.  
Krum stood. "Very good, Mr. Thomas, very good indeed," he said. "Come and sit down. Ms. Patil, you are next."  
Parvati climbed past Dean, who sat down with exhaustion written across his face. The banshee had taken a lot out of him. Harry patted him on the back, and Dean smiled.  
Parvati stood in the center, waiting to be attacked. Krum once more wrote on his sheaf of parchment, and instant later, three small black Gavrokian spiders appeared.  
Next to Harry, Ron cringed and hid his face. Harry shook his head, imperceptibly. Ron would have been in big trouble if he had drawn this one.  
Parvati, as it was, wasn't making much progress. She sent Stunner after Stunner towards the spiders, which crawled across the walls. None of her spells connected. Finally, tiring of dodging, one of the spiders leapt at her face, intent on impaling her brain.  
It was reflex that saved her. She threw up her wand and yelled, "Impedimenta!" The spider stopped moving in midair and fell to the floor, immobile, where Parvati squished it with her shoe.  
"Tarantelgra!" she cried, pointing her wand at the wall. One of the spiders was hit by the arachnid spell, and it fell to the floor, dead.  
The final spider came at Parvati low, and managed to attach itself to one of her legs. It impaled her, sinking its fangs deep into the flesh of her calf.  
Parvati shrieked in pain. Faith was about to jump in and help her when Krum shook his head. "Not yet," he said.  
Parvati collapsed to the floor, crying with the pain that the spider was inflicting as it tore at her leg. She tried vainly to shake the spider loose. It was too deep into her leg, though, and it wasn't letting go. It ripped a piece of her leg off and ate.  
The pain was almost unbearable. In absolute desperation, Parvati flung her wand around behind her, yelling imperceptibly. Perhaps what she shouted was some spell she'd picked up elsewhere, or perhaps her wand was simply reacting to her need, but there was a flash, and the spider was gone.  
"Very good, Ms. Patil," Krum said. "Mr. Longbottom, you're next," he said. "If you and Mr. Potter would kindly help Ms. Patil back to her seat...?"  
Harry jumped with Neville, and together they half carried the severely limping Parvati back to her seat on the bleachers. Harry joined her, ripping some fabric from his shirt to bind the rather sizable wound in her lower leg.   
Neville now stood alone in the center of the dojo. He glanced around nervously. He didn't know what to expect, but things had gotten progressively worse, and now...  
Now, as Krum wrote on his parchment once more, a vampire appeared. Faith gasped, as did Hermione. "Spike!" Faith said. Krum nodded.  
"William the Bloody," he said. "One of the worst vampires in recorded history. Recreated very well here, I think."  
Spike regarded Neville. "Hmm, tasty little critter you must be," he said. "Mind if I have a bite?"  
He attacked Neville quickly. Neville, forgetting his wand momentarily, threw up an arm to protect himself. Spike, of course, was a good deal stronger than he was, and Neville's arm all but broke under the blow. He cried out. Spike grinned.  
"There it is," he said. "I feel like I haven't gotten any decent action in months."  
He took another swing at Neville, hitting the student in the gut. Neville doubled over. As he was catching his breath, he muttered to himself, "Knowledge is power."  
Spike's next punch was aimed at breaking Neville's neck. Neville did a quick role forward, wrapping his legs around Spike's now outstretched arm. Neville pulled down hard, dislocating the vampire's shoulder.  
Neville jumped quickly back to his feet. He raised his wand and hit Spike with a Stunner. Spike's eye's rolled up, and, woozily, he said, "Oh, now that's not good."  
He fell forward, right onto Neville's waiting wand, which turned Spike the illusion to dust.  
Krum felt like clapping. "Very good, Longbottom," he said. "Of course, the illusion wasn't at its highest difficulty level, but it was still an excellent feat. Ms. Granger? You're up."  
Hermione stepped down and readied herself. Krum was about to write when he paused. He looked at Hermione. "Ms. Granger, I have something special here for you," he said. "You wanted to be tested on a higher level, yes?"  
Hermione faced Krum. She was obviously afraid, but just as obviously determined. Ron's knuckles were turning white as he gripped the bench. "Say no, just say no, please, say no..." he muttered.  
"Yes," Hermione said. "I did."  
Krum nodded, steeling himself. "Then prepare to defend yourself." He wrote on the parchment, quickly, as though he wouldn't go through with it if he moved too slowly.  
A moment later, the Beast appeared. This time, Faith didn't gasp. She bolted upright. "No!" she yelled, surprising all the students but not Krum. "Take that thing away, Krum! Even I couldn't beat it, and I tried to in real life!"  
"I'm aware," Krum said, as the Beast advanced towards Hermione. "But you didn't know the thing's weakness. If she has been doing the advanced studies she claims to have been doing, she does."  
Faith refused to sit. "This is going to be ugly," she declared. Several of Ron's knuckles cracked, and his face was devoid of color.  
Meanwhile, Hermione was struggling to remember how to kill the Beast. She knew she'd read it somewhere, but it wasn't coming to her.   
Quickly, she cast Impedimenta. The Beast slowed for a moment, then slowly sped back up, breaking the charm. Hermione threw a Stunner at it, but the spell had no affect, bouncing off the Beast's rock hard armor.  
The Beast took a swing at Hermione. Perhaps the Impediment Charm hadn't completely worn off, because she managed to duck under the blow. Still, it made contact with the dojo wall, drilling an enormous hole through it. Everyone cringed. Faith went to shout to Hermione, to tell her what to do, but Krum interrupted. "She can't hear you," he said. "She can't even see us now that the Beast is here."  
"This isn't right, Krum," Faith said. "You brought me along in case something went wrong," she watched as Hermione narrowly avoided another crushing blow. "And I'd say that this definitely qualifies as 'wrong'."  
"I'll tell you when to intervene, Faith," Krum said. "She'll be okay. She's the best there is."  
After a couple of minutes of the same old duck and chase tactic, which was tiring Hermione quickly, it finally hit her. Both the answer and the Beast.  
She was lucky. It was only a light back hand that connected, but it managed to make her see stars. She gazed at the Beast and fell to the ground. She raised her wand quickly to point at it.  
"Wingardium Leviosa!" She yelled. A long, jagged piece of the Beast's outer crust was pulled free. It flew up into the air, and came whistling down again quickly. It made contact with the Beast's head. It fell over - right onto Hermione. Luckily, the carcass had dissolved by the time it hit her.  
Ron rushed down out of the bleachers. He stopped next to Hermione, and was joined a second later by Harry. "Are you okay?" Ron asked, his voice a high-pitched squeak.  
"Yes," Hermione said, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine." Her eyes never moved.  
"Well, Hermione, I guess that teaches you not to do too many advanced courses," Harry said, trying to lighten the mood. "It's getting dangerous."  
"It certainly is," Ron agreed, not joking in the slightest. "Come on, sit down over here."  
Ron walked a very shaky Hermione back to the bench. He was about to sit down with her when Krum spoke up.  
"It's your turn, Mr. Weasley," he said.  
Ron was so worried about Hermione that he forgot to be nervous as he stepped into the center of the dojo. It came back to him in a hurry, though, when a very large, very icky something jumped out at him.  
"Melma demon!" Ron gasped.  
Everyone cringed. The Melma was dripping all over the floor. It roared at Ron and dragged its horrific body closer to him. Ron backed away. The Melma took a swing at him, but the punch was way over Ron's head. Unfortunately, this meant that the Melma dripped on Ron a bit.  
"Erg!" he yelled, as a small bit of the greenish yellow slime hit his shoulder a scorched a small hole through the fabric.  
Ron retreated across the room quickly. He looked at the Melma as it dragged its body across towards him. "Uh, I know I remember how to kill you," Ron said. "I know it, I know it, I know it..."  
The Melma swung at him again. This time he managed to avoid both the punch and the goo.  
"That's it!" he yelled, suddenly, startling everyone. "Frio Totalus!"  
A jet of blue icy wind sprouted from Ron's wand. It hit and enveloped the Melma. In a moment, the thing was frozen solid.  
"Very good," Krum muttered, checking the class roster. "Yes, okay, then. We have time today for one more. Mr. Potter, I believe that is you."  
Harry stood and descended the stairs. Ron stopped him briefly on his way to Hermione, who was still a bit shaky. "Good luck," Ron said. "Not that you need it," he added, with a grin.  
"Thanks," Harry said. He stood in the middle of the dojo and watched as the bleachers disappeared from his view. He waited.  
A minute later, it appeared. At first, Harry thought it was some sort of slimy gorilla. Then he remembered what it was.  
A Drokken! The beast sprang at him, knocking him over. He climbed to his feet as quickly as he could manage, but the attack had hurt. The Drokken regarded him hungrily. It salivated more as it prowled around in a circle, searching for another opening.  
It threw itself at Harry unexpectedly. Harry didn't even have time to raise his wand before the beast hit him. He lost his grip on his wand...and it spiraled away from him.  
The Drokken was still near him. He rose, only to duck under another lunge from the Drokken. It went over his head, but managed to swipe his shoulder with its claws as it went. Harry yelled, but realized that this was his one and probably only chance to regain his wand. He looked around for it, searching wildly, but it was gone from sight.  
The Drokken had recovered from it's missed lunge and was preparing for another one. Harry stopped searching for his wand. He squared himself and faced the Drokken.  
He drew the Hunga Munga from the small sheath beneath his outer robe.  
The Drokken lunged at him again, and this time, the lunge did its damage. The Drokken locked into Harry by placing its two enormous forearms around the boy's back.  
Harry was constricted to the bursting point almost instantly. Every time he attempted to move, even a little, he felt the Drokken ripping a bit more of the flesh from his back.  
In a move of desperation, Harry, ignoring the incredible, searing pain, wrenched his right arm upwards. He wouldn't have been strong enough to break the Drokken's grasp; however, the Hunga Munga cut just deep enough to cause the creature pain.  
The Drokken released it's grip on Harry. He resisted the urge to collapse, as the pain the Drokken had inflicted was severe and the creature had been more or less holding Harry up. Harry steadied himself and looked to the wounded Drokken. He knew that the thing would be back in the fight quickly.  
He needed to act - now.  
He lunged at the Drokken before it got a chance to hit him. The creature was surprised to be attacked, to say the least. It barely threw up an arm to protect itself before Harry's axe came down and buried itself in the arm.  
The Drokken howled with fury and pain. It threw Harry off, putting a little extra power into it. Harry landed on his feet, in a crouch. He was no longer thinking. He was doing.  
The Drokken came at him. It threw an enormous punch, aimed at knocking Harry's head from his shoulders. Harry sidestepped it at an impossible speed, and in the same motion, slashed upwards with the Hunga Munga. The arm of the Drokken was severed at what passed for an elbow.  
Harry rolled away as the Drokken clutched at is new stump. The creature tottered a bit, swooning from the loss of blood. It turned to Harry, and Harry through the Hunga Munga, full force. The axe hit right dead on, and removed the Drokken's head from the rest of its body.  
Harry picked up the axe and watched as the class shimmered back into his view. Most of them were gaping at him. Krum was amongst the gapers; however, realizing that Harry could see him, he abruptly shut his mouth.  
"That was a truly amazing bit of fighting, Mr. Potter," he said. "Truly amazing. Okay, um..." he seemed to have lost his train of thought. It came back quickly. "Class, line up next to Mr. Potter. Single file."  
The class obeyed, though Hermione and Parvati both had to have some support. Faith rose out of the shadows, watching Krum like a hawk.  
"That was an excellent performance today, class," he said. "Ms. Patil, Mr. Potter, I believe that you will find that your injuries will disappear as soon as you leave this room. However, I would still recommend a trip to the infirmary for both of you; there is some psychological damage that goes along with being injured here. Perhaps you should go too, Mr. Weasley.  
"Always remember this when you're in a fight: the other one doesn't care about what happens to you. All it cares about is hurting you as much as it can. You have to think the same way. Class dismissed."  
  
As soon as the class was gone, Faith confronted Krum. "They were all supposed to be toned down!" she yelled, barely restraining the urge to decapitate Krum. "None of those things were supposed to be anywhere near as powerful as they are in real life."  
"They weren't," Krum said. "No matter how much she knows, do you think that some school girl might be able to kill the Beast?" he chuckled.  
"That Drokken was as close to the real thing as it could be," Faith accused.  
"And what would you know about Drokken?" Krum asked, returning to his classic surly demeanor.  
"I know people from Pylea," Faith said. "That thing didn't have any safety restrictions on it, did it?"  
"No, it didn't," Krum admitted.  
"Why?" she asked. "Is there some reason you want Harry Potter dead? Cause then I might want you dead. And I'm good at that."  
"It was nothing like that," Krum said. "My orders came from the Headmaster. He believes that Mr. Potter requires more...challenge...than his classmates."  
Faith regarded Krum for a while. "I don't think that you should be asking for my help again," she said.  
"Don't hate me, Faith," Krum said. "I'm just a soldier following orders."  
Faith left, without looking at Krum. She wasn't sure she wanted to see what was in his eyes at that moment.  
  
On the grounds later that day, the Slayers trained. Giles walked through the ranks with Buffy, surveying the Slayers as they worked.  
"They're very good," Giles observed.  
"They have dedication," Buffy stated. "They have a cause, and they trust each other. And they don't have the First popping in to convince one of them to kill herself every other day."  
"Yes, that helps," Giles said, chuckling a bit. "But I don't think that this army really knows what its up against."  
"Army of vampires, demons, and Dark wizards," Buffy said, ticking the categories off on her fingers. "They've got it all."  
"Yes, they know the facts on paper," Giles said. "There is a great difference between paper and blood. Now, many of these girls have never even fought a real vampire. They're all Slayers, yes - and that may work against them, psychologically. Part of the Slayer mentality is that every Slayer harbors a superiority complex over vampires. So you've got a largely unthreatened group of superiority complexes."  
Buffy considered that. Were the girls too cocky? "I guess you're right," she said, slowly. "Any suggestions?"  
Giles kept quiet. Buffy grimaced. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"  
Giles ignored this. "I think we should take the girls into the forest. On a hunting expedition."  
"Into the forest? You got balls, my man!" Craig strolled into sight, appearing out of thin air. Both Giles and Buffy jumped.  
"How'd you do that?" Buffy asked. "You can make yourself invisible?"  
"Nah," Craig said. "I can just make it so you can't see me. Or won't see me, I guess would be closer to the way it works."  
Buffy looked quizzical, but dropped the matter. "You've been into the forest?" she asked.  
"Once or twice a week, yeah," Craig said, smiling. "So, can I come?"  
Giles was still a bit miffed over Craig's sudden appearance. "This isn't some joy ride," he said, a bit louder than he'd intended. He quieted when the Slayers looked at him in curiosity. "I can't guarantee that we could protect you in there."  
"I don't need protection," Craig said, laughing. "If any protecting does go on, it'll be me protecting you."  
Giles was understandably upset about this. Buffy jumped in. "How well do you know the forest?"  
"Better than most around here, except maybe the Divination teacher, Firenze," Craig said to her. "He used to live there; he's a centaur, you know."  
"Yes, I've met him," Buffy said. "He seemed kinda mellow."  
"Maybe that's what he's like in a castle," Craig said. "Out there, in the wild, centaur's can be vicious bastards."  
"Not that you'd know a thing about viciousness," Giles muttered. Craig heard him.  
"You know what's funny?" he said. "Most people would think that anyone as violent as me would have to be crazy. But violence helps keep me sane. Not completely sane, of course," he smiled in a very disturbing manner, "but sane enough."  
Before Giles could think of something else to piss the young man off with, Buffy spoke. "We'd love for you to come. Be at the Slayer meeting room at six tonight. We'll have a meeting to iron out the details, and with any luck, we'll be into the forest by eight."  
Craig nodded. Though he addressed Buffy, his smile was aimed at Giles. "I'll be there," said he. He walked off, disappearing behind one of the training apparatus'.  
"I don't like him," Giles said. "Nor do I trust him."  
"Come on, Giles," said Buffy. "You've seen him fight."  
They resumed their walk. "That's part of the problem," Giles said. "He enjoys the fight far too much."  
"You heard what he said. Fighting helps keep him sane. Wouldn't you enjoy it if it helped to keep you from going crazy?"  
Giles considered. After a moment, he said, "I suppose so," but he didn't mean it.  
  
At six o'clock, sharp, Buffy stood before the crowd of Slayers. She still wasn't used to it.  
"We've got something special planned for tonight," she said. "A trip into the forest."  
There was general murmuring amongst the crowd. Buffy scanned it but couldn't pick out Craig. "Giles will explain the details."  
As she turned to yield the podium to Giles, Buffy found Craig. He was sitting in a chair besides Willow, on the end. He smiled at her.  
The smile was blood-thirsty.  
"Right, then," Giles said. "We'll be dividing into your separate companies for this exercise. Companies A and B will provide our flanks; the rest will spread out in a triangular line to sweep the forest from one end to the northern tip. Each company will maintain communications with myself and Buffy at all times for instructions. We're going to run into demons out there; a lot of them. Kill those that you have to. Your main objective is to simply get through the forest. Engage the demons, though. That's all. Companies report to your Company Leader to receive arms. Dismissed."  
The Slayers began to file out. As soon as they were gone, those that sat with Buffy formed a loose circle. Giles addressed them as well. "You all know what we're doing," he said. "We don't want any casualties, so be careful out there. Let's get going."  
Craig waited with Buffy as the others left to find their prospective company. Craig walked with Buffy towards Giles own unit. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked.  
"You'll stick with me and warn me about any of the nasty patches of the forest that we may hit," Buffy said.  
"Sounds good," Craig said.  
It took shorter than any of them had expected to get going. Both Craig and Buffy selected broadswords from the chest was marked "Scooby".  
"Scooby?" Craig asked.  
"It'd take too long to explain," Buffy said. "Just go with it."  
"Sure, whatever," Craig said.  
The march began. Buffy withdrew a piece of parchment. On it were a bunch of glowing dots. "What's that?" Craig asked.  
"It's a tracker. Willow made it. It allows me to see where all of our Company Leader's are in relation to me. See, they're spreading out, heading into the forest."  
Craig observed the map, with its glowing dots. He pointed at two of them. "These two are heading right into the nest of those spiders we fought off in September," he said.  
"Thanks," Buffy said. She raised her wristwatch to her face and spoke into it. "Companies H and J, alter your course twenty degrees south."  
"Twenty degrees south, aye," came the responses.  
"Very militaristic," Craig observed.  
"It's how they've been trained," Buffy said.  
"Actually, I was talking more about you than them," Craig said. "You don't seem like the militant type."  
"I'll take that as a compliment," Buffy said. "Any more trouble?"  
Craig observed the parchment. "It's not easy to tell without any of the forests lines," he said. "This one is about to hit a vamp nest; they're probably not there right now, though, since it's dark out."  
"What could vampires possibly want in that forest?" Buffy asked. "There aren't any humans there for them to eat."  
Craig shrugged. "Dunno," he said. "They can eat other things, you know."  
"Yes, I know that. But vampires won't ever choose to, not if they can have human blood instead."  
Craig shook his head. It mattered little to him. "Maybe they're vegetarians?" he said. "Who cares? Are you going to warn that company that they're about to hit a vamp nest?"  
"No," Buffy said. "I'm not. They'll deal with it."  
"Or they'll die a bloody, gruesome death," Craig said.  
The rest of the operation passed without incident - until the units were on their way back. Buffy and Craig were beginning to wonder if they were really necessary when a half dozen panicked voices came in over Buffy's wristwatch/communications thingy.  
"Buffy? They came out of nowhere! Dozens! Centaurs...!"  
"Come on!" Craig said. "Centaurs can't be handled alone! They need help!"  
Buffy and Craig sprinted, together, into the forest. In short order, they found the beleaguered units, who had had the wisdom to group together.  
Centaurs would break out of the shadows, racing around and rearing at them, hitting them with hooves and flailing arms. The Centaurs were much to fast for the disorganized Slayers, and the toll was beginning to show. Many of the girls lay on the ground, bleeding, and many more were on their way there.  
Craig leapt into the fray, without waiting for Buffy to come up with a plan. He hit a Centaur that had Jennifer Dane pinned with a dragon's kick that could have shattered steel. As it was, it shattered the Centaur's back, dropping it to the ground.  
Craig smiled viciously. He was loving this. He was born for this.  
He leapt away again, redirected himself using a tree, and hurtled at a Centaur. He it in its torso, bending it back.  
The other Slayers, heartened by Craig's triumphs and strengthened by Buffy's leadership, fought back with new vigor. The other units began arriving, as well. The tables turned, slowly, in favor of the Slayers.  
Soon, the Centaurs broke and ran. But Craig wasn't done. He beat a Centaur down into the ground, and kept punching well after the creature was unconscious. Faith approached Craig. "Craig, it's over, it's done, you can calm down now..."  
Craig turned to her. She, and everyone else, gasped. Craig's face had been deformed, as it had at the Lake. Blood was smeared all across the deep lines that crisscrossed him.  
With a primal snarl, Craig leapt at Faith. She was barely able to roll away from the lunge, but Craig didn't overshoot by much. He was back on his feet and locked into a grapple with Faith before anyone knew what was going on.  
Craig aimed a punch at Faith's head with his right fist. Faith ducked it and went to drive her shoulder into Craig's midsection. Craig moved with blinding speed, leaping up and using his outstretched right arm to flip himself over Faith. As he landed, and Faith rose from her lunge, Craig swept his left elbow back in a tight arc, catching Faith in the back of the head. She was thrown several feet by the impact.  
As she rolled away, the Slayer's regained their senses and flooded in to hit Craig. He jumped and grabbed a branch, using it to swing himself into their mass. He kicked at them, making contact with a head and driving that Slayer back into her fellows. Craig came down to the ground with a Slayer behind him. He used his left arm to push his elbow violently backwards into the Slayer's gut. She doubled over. Craig threw his legs out in front of him, falling to the ground in a flat position. About halfway there, he grabbed the Slayer around the neck and, completely defying the laws of gravity, reversed direction, coming back up and throwing the Slayer into Buffy.  
Craig turned a flip to intercept two more Slayers, performing a split kick that while he was upside down. Craig landed with his hands and stayed like that for a moment. Then he pivoted his hips and spun to the ground, landing in a sitting position and taking the feet out from underneath a Slayer in front of him. Craig hit his legs against the ground and flipped himself off the ground to stand on a branch, twenty feet above the forest below.  
He stood and steadied himself there. A bit of the blood on his face dripped into his mouth. As soon as he tasted it, the lines receded. He fell, unconscious, to the ground, and knew no more.  
  
Buffy climbed painfully to her feet. That impact had hurt a lot. She surveyed the carnage around her. Forty or more Slayers were on the ground. Some were getting back up again. Others weren't.  
Craig was amongst them. Buffy approached him. He was laying, face down, on the ground. She nudged him with her foot, rolling him over. His eyes were wide, staring, and white. His mouth was open in a horrible grimace. She knelt and felt for a pulse. She found one. He was still alive.  
"Who got him?" she asked.  
"No one," Giles said, emerging from the ranks. "He just passed out up there and fell. Come on, we have wounded we have to get to the Hospital Wing."  
They began picking up their fallen comrades. Buffy herself made a point to pick up Craig. "Are you sure we shouldn't just leave him?" one of the Slayers asked.  
"I'm sure," Buffy said. "Though I'm not sure what that was all about, I think I have an idea."  
They marched back out of the forest. Upon clearing the tree line, Buffy took a head count and found none missing. They'd all made it out.  
As she turned to head up to the Hospital Wing, with those twelve people whose injuries needed special care, a large, brightly colored bird appeared in front of her.  
The bird flapped its wings once and landed in front of her. It presented its leg to her. Attached to it was a note. Buffy put Craig down and detached the note, wondering whether or not the night could get any worse.  
It could.  
  
Buffy,  
Come to my office as soon as you read this. Voldemort has attacked the Ministry of Magic in London. There's no one left. HE MIGHT BE COMING HERE NEXT.  
  
  
Cliffhangers make the world go round...please give me a review! Please! I beg of you! As you might imagine from this, we're getting close to the end. REVIEWS! PLEASE! Please oh please oh...yeah, you get the idea. 


	26. The TwentySixth Chapter

We're getting pretty close to the end now...I hope you're all ready for it.  
  
Buffy stood in Dumbledore's office. "On his way here?" she asked, breathless. "Now?"  
"Now," Dumbledore said. "The Ministry in London is gone. Wiped out. Everyone was killed, and now he's coming here to do it again."  
Dumbledore, for the first time ever, looked flustered. He was rushing about his office, looking at charts, and seeing whether or not things were in place.  
"We're not ready," he said. "Our defenses aren't fully prepared, we don't have as many troops as we should, the hospital isn't built, the artillery hasn't even begun to arrive..."  
He cast around. "And the most important thing of all..." He stopped hurrying around. "I need to see Craig, Ginny, and Harry, right away. Craig first."  
Buffy looked at him and didn't know what to say. "Uh..." she stumbled. "Craig's...indisposed,"  
"You don't want to tell me that," Dumbledore said, dangerously. Buffy took a step back.  
"He went crazy on us out in the woods," she said. "Attacked us. Probably would have ended up killing a few of us too, but something stopped him. He's in the hospital wing now."  
Dumbledore rushed back around his desk. "We don't have time for this," he said. He tapped his wand against a specific section of the map of Hogwarts on his desk. "Poppy, I need to see Craig in my office now, regardless of whether or not it will hurt him."  
"But Dumbledore," came the voice of the nurse. "This boy needs to rest. He is not well, and shouldn't even be standing, let alone..."  
"I don't care," Dumbledore said. There was the sound of a stifled gasp from the other end, and finally an affirmative.  
Next, Dumbledore tapped on the kitchen. "Dobby," he said. "Bring Harry and Ginny to my office, as soon as possible."  
He didn't wait for a reply; one wasn't needed. The elf was more than reliable. "Buffy," Dumbledore said. "Get Grimshar and as many your commanding officers as you feel in necessary and meet me in the Great Hall in half an hour. We need to talk, fast."  
"I'll put in a call to Angel and see if I can get some reinforcements, too," she said.  
"Excellent," Dumbledore said. He wasn't listening to her. Craig had just walked through the door.  
He was supported by crutches. He looked at Buffy, but couldn't look her in the eye. She left.  
"Voldemort is coming here," Dumbledore said. "Can Harry and Ginny still make it?"  
Craig's eyes, usually so intense, were dull and distant. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe."  
Dumbledore slammed his fist down against the table. "Damn it, Craig! Can it work?" he asked.  
Craig didn't answer.  
Dumbledore crossed around the table and shook Craig violently. "Snap out of it!" Dumbledore hissed. "I don't care what has happened to you tonight, snap out of it! We need you to focus!"  
Craig seemed to come back into himself. "Huh?" he asked. "Where am I?"  
Dumbledore related the events in London to Craig. "Can Ginny and Harry still manage?" he asked, once more.  
Craig considered for a moment. "Yes," he said, finally. "They can. I think the bond is strong enough.  
"They're soul mates."  
  
When, drowsily, Harry and Ginny walked through the door to Dumbledore's office, the sight that met them stunned them. Craig stood before Dumbledore's desk, his clothes ripped and battered, and a series of large gashes covering his face. Dumbledore looked as though he aged several centuries since dinner.  
"What's wrong, Professor?" Ginny asked.  
"What isn't wrong would be a better question, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said. "What I have to tell the two of you here will be shocking. It might disgust you a bit. But remember that it is for the common good.  
"The basics, the things you already know: Harry defeated Voldemort fifteen years ago. I've been making plans since then for when Voldemort was to return, because it was prophesied that Harry was the only person alive who could defeat Voldemort, and whoever wins their personal battle, wins the war.  
"And now, the things you don't know: the key the magical world is here at Hogwarts. It's not so much a tangible thing as it these grounds themselves. This is the most magical place on Earth, and whoever controls it can control the world.  
"Voldemort understands this. He wants Hogwarts, but Hogwarts is fundamentally a force of good; he can't use it. But Salazar Slytherin left a way for Hogwarts to be subverted, if the need ever arose.  
"There is a place, at the exact bottom center of the lake, where the ground flattens out and the water becomes air. There is a pedestal there. If this pedestal is filled with soil from the mouth of Hell, than a Hellmouth will open under Hogwarts, destroying the castle and transferring its power to whomever was responsible for the mess.  
"The pedestal cannot be destroyed. However, it can be sealed away in the Astral Plane. This can only be done while someone is performing the ritual to raise the mouth of hell. Voldemort will be there tonight, performing the ritual. Since sending him to the Astral Plane is technically killing him, and since there's no way back from there once the ritual is complete, Harry must be the one to perform the ritual.  
"And the ritual can only be performed by a vampire."  
Dumbledore gave this all a while to sink in. "A vampire?" Harry asked, dumbstruck. "I'll have to be a vampire?"  
"There's more," Craig said. "You're really going to hate this part. We've been monitoring your relationship for the past few months. It was destined to happen. Well, sort of...Harry needed to fall in love. Once you're a vampire, you'll be evil. The only thing that can ever make a vampire good is if it has a soul. The magic's that gave Angel his soul are gone; we can't simply make you a vampire and give you a soul. Instead, you have a soul mate. The two of you are going to share a soul."  
Silence descended on the room. Dumbledore was trying to gauge whether or not the truckload of emotional burdens he'd just dumped on the two teens was going to break them; Craig was wondering whether not they were going to ask him why he was involved at all; and Harry and Ginny were absorbing.  
Dumbledore looked up at the clock on the wall. "I have a meeting that I must attend," he said. "I want the three of you there, too."  
He rose from his desk and left. Blindly, without really feeling, Harry and Ginny got up too and went after him. Craig took a deep breath. He shut the door behind himself as he left.  
  
Buffy looked around at those assembled in the Great Hall: Giles, Faith, Grimshar, a wizard lieutenant named Ain, McGonagall, and Snape. She checked the clock. Nearly midnight. In fact, Buffy made every little observation that could distract her from the incredible badness of their situation.  
Dumbledore arrived, followed closely by Harry, Ginny...and Craig. Buffy shot a look at Faith, but it was too late.  
"What's he doing here?" Faith asked, gesturing at Craig.  
"Craig will be a major part of the defense of this castle," Dumbledore said. "It is only fair that we include him."  
"Defense?" Faith asked, and Buffy attempted to kick her under the table. "He's better at killing everything in sight."  
"We don't have time for this!" Dumbledore yelled, surprising everyone. "You two will get along. Period."  
Faith was shocked. She'd only known the old man for a few months, but a few months was a long enough period of time to convince her that he was way out of character.  
Faith nodded. "Sure," she said. "If you say so."  
"I do," Dumbledore said, more gravely than angrily. "To business. Voldemort's forces are on their way here. Grimshar, tell us what we know about the army."  
Grimshar stood. He smiled - his smile was terrifying to any who didn't understand what he was doing. "We knew there'd be vampires," he said. "We didn't know how many until now. Sixteen hundred. That's right, kiddies; they outnumber us almost two to one, and that's just the beginning. After the vampires there are other types of demon. As many as twelve hundred. And finally, Voldemort's Death Eaters and Giants: mercifully, there are only about a hundred of each. If you add it all up, they've got three thousand, six hundred troops, and we have about nine hundred."  
"Four to one," Giles muttered. "Good Lord..."  
Grimshar's awful smile returned. "Yeah, chances are you'll be meeting him pretty soon."  
Dumbledore cut in. "Grimshar, what are our current defense capabilities? I want to know everything."  
Grimshar lost his humor in a hurry. "Albus, if he arrives before dawn, we're in trouble. If he arrives before next week, we're in trouble. If he arrives before next year, we're in trouble. Nothing is where it needs to be. None of the magical wards have been tested. Most of them are fresh off the Ministry ship lines, and we all know just how effective the wards at the Ministry must have been."  
"Can we hold out under a full scale assault?" Dumbledore asked.  
"For a while," Grimshar said. "But that's all we can do: hold out. In the end, they'll wear us down. They'll win. As long as we're all there is, they'll win."  
Buffy jumped in. "I talked to Angel," she said. "He's pulling every string possible to get us some reinforcements, but mobilizing armies from across oceans isn't easy. He can send aid, but the big guns won't arrive for a while."  
"How much can he send, when all is said and done?" Dumbledore asked.  
"Two thousand units, tops," she said. "That's the best he can do."  
Dumbledore nodded. "If we can hold on, weaken them for a time, then maybe we can throw them back eventually. But none of that really matters."  
Jaw's dropped. "What?" Ain asked, confused beyond all belief. "Did I misunderstand you?"  
"You did not, lieutenant," Dumbledore said. "I said that none of it matters. It doesn't. What matters is whether or not Harry can defeat Voldemort. If he does, than we will win. If he does not, than we will lose. Period."  
Slowly, everyone turned to Harry and stared at him. He shrank in his seat a bit. "Okay, make me feel more uncomfortable," he said.  
They snapped out of it and focused on Dumbledore. "So what is our goal?" Faith asked. "What are we fighting to do?"  
"Keeping the demons off the students and out of the castle," Dumbledore said. "If they get in, than we'll have a slaughter that no one will be able to clean up after, and they could even destroy the castle. We can't let that happen. If we lose, nothing matters anyway, but we won't give up. If we win, we'll need the castle and its resources to rebuild the magical world."  
"Right," Faith said.  
Just then, an owl swooped into the hall. It carried a piece of red parchment in its talons.  
"That's a lookout," Dumbledore said. "His army is less than ten miles away. They'll be here in an hour."  
McGonagall spoke up for the first time. "Shall we evacuate the students to the Great Hall?" she asked, sounding remarkably well composed despite the mayhem that was going to be erupting soon.  
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Grimshar, Ain, I need you to get the Ministry garrison mobilized. That bird was from the northern lookout, so go take your troops there and set up a line of defense. Buffy, take the Slayers there too; lend a hand wherever possible. I'll leave the tactics up to you; just don't let those demons through! They don't reach the castle under any circumstances. Harry, you, Craig, Ginny, and a small group of the Slayers will go to the lake and prepare for the ritual. I'll go with you to show you how its done and...and to prepare your body for it. Okay. That's it. Let's go." Harry shuddered. He felt Ginny's hand snake into his under the table. He felt like leaning on her shoulder and crying.  
As everyone got up to perform their specific duties, he held Ginny's hand tighter. "I'm going to die tonight," he said.  
"No, you aren't!" Ginny said, with soft conviction. "You are not going to die! Do you remember what I told you about hope?"  
"Ginny, they're going to make me a vampire," Harry said. "You have to die to become a vampire."  
"Oh, yeah," Ginny said. "Well, you'll still be you; we'll be sharing a soul."  
"Do you think that this will work?" he asked.  
"It has to," Ginny said.  
McGonagall's magically magnified voice came through the loud speaker. "All students are to report IMMEDIATELY to the Great Hall. No delaying, no fussing, NOTHING. Any infractions of any severity will be dealt with very harshly. I repeat, all students report IMMEDIATELY to the Great Hall."  
Harry and Ginny stood apart from the door, to make sure they weren't hit too hard by the crowd. Dumbledore sat at the Head Table, waiting for the team of Slayers that would accompany them to the lake to arrive.  
The students began arriving quickly. All were still dressed in their night clothes. Ron and Hermione spotted Harry and Ginny and rushed over.  
"You two look like you've just been through a battle," Ron said.  
"No, the battle hasn't started yet," Ginny said. "It's coming up though, if you want to wait for it."  
"What?" Hermione asked, going very pale.  
"Voldemort is coming," Harry said, dully. "And I'm going to stop him."  
"Harry, that's ridiculous!" Ron said. "Dumbledore won't want you throwing away your life like this..."  
"Dumbledore is the one whose putting me up to this," Harry said.  
"This is part of the plan?" Ron asked, aghast.  
"Yes," Harry said.  
"Are you sure?" Ron asked, scared positively shitless.  
"Yes!" Harry said, hoping that he'd gotten some measure of finality into his voice to mask the fear. Harry saw Neville, Luna, and several other members of the DA hurrying over.  
"Harry, we've heard rumors that You-Know-Who's coming," Neville said. "He's on his way now."  
"That's right," Harry said.  
"And you're going to fight him," Luna said.  
"That's right," Harry said.  
"We want to help," Neville said. "The DA is behind you."  
Harry looked out at the small crowd that had been attracted. They were looking intently at him, obviously afraid, but just as obviously determined. For the first, and he could guess only, time that night, Harry smiled. "That means a lot to me, really, it does," he said. "But this isn't your fight. It's mine."  
"And we're your friends," Hermione said. "We want to help you."  
"There's nothing you can do," Harry said. "The ritual involved can only be performed by me, and..." he trailed off. Dumbledore was signaling him that it was time. A group of Slayers waited by the door, with Craig. "It's time for us to go. Ginny?"  
"Yes, I'm with you," she said. As they left the crestfallen DA behind, she said. "I'll be with you forever."  
"Let's just work on tonight, shall we?" Harry said.  
"Sounds like a plan," Ginny said.  
  
The troops took up their position in the north. Faith surveyed the Slayers to make sure they were ready. She stopped at Maria.  
"Ready to fight, Maria?" she asked.  
Maria nodded, her face set. She swung her mace in small circles, keeping loose. "Bring it on," she said.  
"That's my girl," Faith said.  
Grimshar came up to Faith. "Are all of the Slayers in place along the line?" he asked.  
"Yeah," Faith said. "They're ready to go."  
"Do you think this is going to work?" Grimshar asked. "With the boy?"  
"It has to," Faith replied, simply.  
  
Everywhere, at that moment, people were asking others, "Do you think it'll work?", in reference to Harry's fight with Voldemort. And everywhere, the answer was, "It has to".  
Nowhere, though, was the question as stressed over as it was in the mind of Albus Dumbledore as he taught the ritual of salvation to Harry Potter.  
  
"Do you think you can do it?" Dumbledore asked.  
"It seems fairly basic," Harry replied, fighting to keep his nerves and his nausea down. "I can do it."  
Dumbledore fished in a pocket and withdrew a large blue capsule. "Here," he said. "Take this. It will make you rise as a vampire faster, rather than having to wait hours."  
Harry took it and the glass of water Dumbledore summoned out of thin air. He swallowed the pill.  
Dumbledore considered Harry for a moment. He'd never given the younger boy...man a choice in this, and Harry had never asked for one. He knew that he had to do this. He'd grown up.  
Damn.  
Dumbledore withdrew two things from his robes: a knife and a large red vial.  
"Slit your writs, Harry," he said. "And once you've bled enough, drink this."  
Harry took the knife, and, trembling, cut his wrists. He cringed a bit as blood started to flow out of him. He felt himself getting light headed quickly. As consciousness began to fail him, Harry's last sight was of Ginny's tear streaked face.  
As his eyes closed and darkness enveloped him, he pressed the vial to his lips and drank.  
  
When Harry Potter picked himself up off the ground, he wasn't on the lake shore anymore. He looked around. He was in a bubble the size of a small room. In the center of the bubble, next to him, stood a pedestal.  
Harry reached a hand up and felt his face. It had gone bumpy. His scar was stretched a bit. He lowered his hand a little and felt his long, sharp fangs. He was vaguely aware of a slight burning in his chest, near his no-longer-beating heart: the soul he shared with Ginny.  
Harry Potter had become a vampire.  
  
Another cliffy. Y'all be proud of me; I wrote this in exactly three hours and twenty two minutes. As always, leave your reviews and criticisms and all. I want to hear it. Oh, one last minor, unimportant detail. The next chapter is the last official one of the story, though I might do an epilogue if I feel like it (I'm gonna feel like it, so don't worry). Tootles. 


	27. The TwentySeventh Chapter

Well, this is it, kiddos. It's been a great ride, and I still want to see lots of reviews come rolling in, but other than this and a probable epilogue, it's time to say goodbye. Story time.  
  
In a dream world, Harry Potter would have been a nice, normal, average boy whose only worry was that life was a bit too dull sometimes. In a dream world, Harry would fall in love, have no complications, and get married. In a dream world, Harry would have children, have a steady, normal job that he enjoyed, and he would live life, happily, in utter anonymity, blissfully unaware of the mortal peril in which the world was constantly being placed.  
In the real world, Harry Potter was a teenaged vampire with a soul, waiting in a small bubble of air at the bottom of a lake for his mortal enemy, the man who could very possibly destroy the world if Harry failed to kill him first.  
Harry shook his head and threw his fists around a bit, trying to get used to his new vampiric form. He'd trained as a regular teenage boy for too long to just pick up things as a vampire in a moment.  
He tried morphing his face back to his normal human one. It wasn't easy at first, but after a moment he figured it out. He found that as it passed, so did a little bit of his strength. He wasn't quite as hungry like this too...  
Hungry...  
Harry shuddered as he realized that what he hungered for was human blood. He shuddered again when he realized that, despite his soul, there was a large part of him that didn't have a problem with that.  
This was going to be even more trying then he had imagined.  
Deciding that this wasn't the time to run his own psychological analysis, Harry returned to testing his new physical capabilities. There was a good chance that he would need them.  
Harry waited.  
  
Buffy stood with Faith surveying the dark line of the forest. "Where are they?" she asked.  
Faith just shook her head. She didn't have an answer.  
"According to Dumbledore's watch, they should have been here twenty minutes ago," Buffy said. "I'm getting worried."  
"Maybe that's why they're doing it," Faith said. "Maybe Voldie had to go to the ladies room. Calm down, Buffy. They'll get here, and we'll fight."  
"Right," Buffy said. Then she laughed. Faith looked over at her, surprised.  
"What's funny?" she asked.  
"This," Buffy said. "That year that we first met...after that, who'd have thought that you'd be here with me, calming me down and fighting with me?"  
"I certainly wouldn't have," Faith said. "I hated you a lot back then."  
"Likewise," Buffy said. "Good thing we've gotten this far."  
"Yeah," Faith said, and returned her gaze to the forest. She was worried, too, but she wasn't being vocal about it.  
Buffy looked up and down the line. The section that she had chosen to command personally was located near the center of the line. On her left was Giles' section and further on, Grimshar's forces. On her right were Wood and Willow's sections, and the rest of the army of Slayers further on. They were aligned using an ancient formation that Giles said came from Alexander the Great.  
Buffy's gaze traveled quickly back to the forest when Faith nudged her in the ribs. "They're here," Faith said, simply. Vampires had started emerging from the forest.  
Buffy glanced at the sky. It was nearing one in the morning, now; sunrise wasn't for another six and a half hours. This was going to be long and messy.  
Buffy walked out in front of the troops, Faith by her side. She walked a full hundred feet out, so that she was halfway between both lines. Buffy turned to look at her own troops. They all watched her and waited for her signal.  
She raised her hand. In it was the Slayer's Scythe. "Charge!" she yelled. The entire line of Slayers, wizards, and goblins yelled and rushed forward, toward the trees.  
  
In the Great Hall, the shout could be heard as a thunderous cry. The students looked around expectantly. They were all frightened out of their wits.  
Madame Pomfrey came rushing into the hall. She exchanged a quick word with Professor McGonagall, then strode over to where Ron and Hermione were standing.  
"We need more help with the hospital," Pomfrey said, shortly. "When I asked, Professor McGonagall recommended the two of you."  
Hermione started to smile, but stopped about halfway there. "We'll do it," she said, solemnly. She looked to Ron to see if he would disagree, but he was already nodding an affirmative to Madame Pomfrey.  
Along with about fifteen other students and Madame Pomfrey, they left the Great Hall, only to stop in the Entrance Hall.  
"This is the hospital?" Hermione asked, looking at the hastily set up beds and care kits scattered throughout.  
"Our Hospital Wing is too far away and too small," Madame Pomfrey said. "We'll have to make due with what we have. Ah, here's the other help."  
The house-elves had arrived from the kitchens. As they got to work setting things up, Dobby came up to Ron and Hermione, expectantly.  
"Harry Potter has gone to fight the Dark Lord?" he asked.  
"Yes, he has, Dobby," Hermione said.   
"Dobby is wishing he is fighting with Harry Potter," Dobby said, bitterness creeping into his voice.  
"We'll make sure to tell him that," Ron said. If he survives, he added silently.  
Madame Pomfrey finished overseeing the set up of the beds and the erecting of the supplies cabinet, and turned to address her new nurses.   
"The first casualties will be arriving shortly. Do what you can for them. If you can't do anything, bring them into the back. Just do what you can. When its over, we'll get some real doctors in to help."  
The first wave of casualties came flooding in, and the Entrance Hall was filled with the yells of those dying and those who wished for death to end the pain.  
  
Craig and Ginny stood waiting. There were several Slayers with them, but all kept their distance from the other two, and no one felt like talking.  
As soon as the fighting had started, Dumbledore had left, in a hurry, leaving instructions for the Slayers and Craig.  
He told them to protect the lake as long as possible and when it was no longer possible. To abandon it.  
"Such a great plan," Craig said to himself.  
Ginny didn't say anything.  
The voices had decided to give him an earful since his little escapade in the forest. It was annoying the hell out him. It seemed like every despicable dead person in history had lined up to tell him that he was a terrible person.  
There are only so many times Attila the Hun can insult you before you start to crack.  
So far, they hadn't seen any action, and several of the Slayers had started chomping at the bit. They wanted to leave.  
Ginny spoke up suddenly. "Do you want to leave, too?" she asked.  
"No," Craig said. "I don't. Harry's the most important part of all this - we have to protect him for as long as possible."  
Ginny nodded. She was satisfied with that - if it wasn't a personal thing for Craig, at least it was still important. Ginny would have been content, but her curiosity got the better of her.  
"Why do you even fight?" she asked.  
"What else is there for me?" Craig asked. "Fighting is what I am. It's what I had to be."  
"Destiny..." Ginny said. It pained her that her destiny was sacred, holy, and good, whereas Craig's was to uphold a legacy of pain and violence. And he'd wanted to do good so badly...  
He was. "You're one of the good guys, Craig," she said.  
Craig gave her a funny look. "Was that to reassure me or you?"  
Ginny tried a smile and failed. "You won't hurt me," she said.  
Craig didn't smile. "I can't guarantee that," he said. "If I go crazy...I'm pretty strong. I'm...not really one of the good guys. I just fight for them."  
Ginny was about to say something to Craig, something reassuring, when the vampires attacked.  
  
At the very top of the North Tower, Dumbledore stood surveying the battle below. Demons and Death Eaters had collided with the line of Slayers, goblins, and wizards. It was getting increasingly harder to tell one side from the other.  
"This isn't going to work if they don't fall back," said Ain, who stood at Dumbledore's left.  
"I am well aware of that, Lieutenant," Dumbledore stated. He'd regained a measure of his usual composure.  
"Should we send a message to General Grimshar to fall back and let the artillery do its job?" Ain asked, ever the eager young soldier.  
"No, Lieutenant," Dumbledore said, a bit of annoyance creeping into his voice. "The grounds of Hogwarts are small. We can't give them ground."  
Ain turned from the battle to look over the artillery. The Sunlifery XL13, the latest Ministry gadget to be sent to them, stood there. Several older Maei M232's also stood, lined up in a neat row.  
"Are the shrapnel spells in place?" Dumbledore asked, never diverting his attention from the battle below. The slightest chance was all they needed, and was probably the best they could hope for.  
"Yes, sir," Ain said. He looked at the goblins manning the guns. They all nodded. They were ready to go.  
So was Ain.  
  
Buffy swung the Slayer's Scythe in a circle over her head, clearing the vampires out of her area. She wasn't sure how she'd gotten so far behind the enemies line, but she knew that surviving was going to be difficult.  
A vampire jumped back into the circle she'd just created. Buffy met it with a roundhouse kick that sent it flying back into the ranks. Two more came at her from opposite sides. Buffy ducked their punches. They hit each other.  
"Come on, guys, that's the oldest trick in the book," she said.  
She dusted the two dazed vampires in quick succession.  
Chaos reigned. Buffy didn't have a clue whether or not her Slayer's were winning; she couldn't even tell if any of them were still alive.  
As she sliced the head off of a large Fyarl demon, Buffy noticed a shift in the attention of the demons surrounding her. Several of them on her right side were turning - and getting cut down in the process.  
Faith emerged, swinging a lance in large, devastating circles. The speared end wasn't destroying the vampires it hit, but it was removing body parts at a steady rate.  
Buffy threw a last punch and spun away from her attackers. She and Faith hit each other back to back and continued fighting.  
"Dumbledore needs us to push them back," Faith said. "Something about artillery."  
"Ooh, big guns!" Buffy said.  
"Not to time for little kid jokes, Buffy," Faith said. "We need to throw these assholes back, now."  
"Who's left?" Buffy asked.  
"Not sure," Faith replied, parrying the thrust of a rather scaly demon. "Giles is still up, but other than him, I don't have a clue. I think Robin is dead."  
"Come on," Buffy said, forcing the Scythe through a vampire's throat, dusting it. "We need to get back there."  
The began to walk, circling against each other's back, towards the Slayer's line.  
When they reached it, the Slayer's parted momentarily to let them through. The change was immediate and shocking. Instead of the constant parrying and thrusting of battle, there was open air again.  
Buffy hurried back. Kennedy was standing there, her arm in a makeshift sling. "Willow just went back to the hospital," she said. She looked like she'd been through severe mental trauma. "I pulled a vamp off her - I don't know how much of her the thing got."  
"She'll be fine," Buffy said. "I need to know who's left."  
"Jennifer took over Willow's command. Giles is still up and fighting. Robin's dead - I don't know who's commanding his unit."  
Buffy shook her head. "We need to push them back! Damn it, what are we going to do?"  
A voice from behind her startled her a bit. "Draw them in," Shannon said. "Make them think they've broken through the line and then, when they flood the gap, surround them, close the gap in the line, and kill them. They're demons - frenzied - we can do that as many times as we want. We thin them out a bit and then we can throw them back."  
Buffy and Faith both stared at Shannon. "That was brilliant," Buffy said.  
"Well, I try," Shannon said. And, of all places for it, she blushed.  
  
Half an hour later, Ain was positively chomping at the bit. "Are those new tactics working?" he asked.  
"Why don't you look for yourself, Lieutenant?" Dumbledore asked. He still hadn't moved.  
  
Craig threw the last of the small squad of vampires to the ground and staked it. It exploded into dust. Craig looked up, hoping for more, but finding none.  
"Anyone hurt?" Ginny asked.  
The Slayers all responded; they were unhurt, mostly. Craig didn't respond. "Craig?" Ginny asked, looking straight at him. He didn't meet her eyes.  
"Yes, I'm okay," he said.  
"Look, Craig..." Ginny began, but she never really got to get started. A vampire leapt at her from behind.  
"Later, kid!" Craig said, as he stepped in and threw the vampire away from Ginny. He took a second to survey this new force. It was huge - at least a hundred vampires and other demons.  
Craig looked at the Slayers. "One of you go tell Dumbledore that we'll hold against these things as long as we can, but this push is the last one they're gonna need to make."  
One of the Slayers bolted.  
  
A minute later, she stood on North Tower. "Professor Dumbledore!" she said, breathlessly. "The lake is about to fall!"  
Dumbledore snapped his head around and headed across the Tower, barely acknowledging the Slayer who had delivered the bad news. He looked down at the lake and saw the force of enemies there.  
"Then it is time for the contingency plan," Dumbledore said. "Lieutenant Ain, you have a target. Take out as many of those demons as you can."  
"Our people are down there too!" Ain said.  
"They have orders to retreat," Dumbledore said. "If they follow them, they won't be there long. Commence firing."  
Ain seemed to wrestle with his conscience for a moment, but the soldier in him won out. He gave the signal to one of the guns pointed towards the lake. It fired a bright red streak of light at the lake.  
  
The shell hit the approaching force near the head of the column. The explosion was so forceful that the ground actually sank, restricting access to the lake.  
Craig saw the chance he'd been waiting for. "That's it!" he yelled. "That's all we can do! Pull back!"  
The Slayers broke and ran, heading for the main battle. Ginny lingered a moment.  
"Come on, Craig, we still need your help.  
Craig looked at her. She was terrified by the slightly insane look of remorse in his eyes. "Your mother wants me to tell you that she loves you," Craig said. "I'm going to cover your retreat. Good-bye, kid."  
He leapt from the cliff.  
"Craig!" Ginny yelled, rushing to the edge of the cliff in time to see Craig land amidst the demons. She considered joining him for a moment, then heard the yell of one of her fellow Slayers.  
With a grimace that ran from her mouth to her stomach, Ginny turned. "Good-bye, Craig," she said.  
  
Craig fought furiously, slicing and dicing with his medium broadsword. He barely heard the sounds of the vampires turning to dust.  
Craig stood before the only open ramp way up through the newly formed cliff. The opening was perhaps eight feet wide, with twenty foot drops on either side. Craig fought at the top of it, to keep the demons from claiming the lake.  
As a vampire lunged forward, trying to bare him down, Craig rammed his sword straight through the vampire's stomach. Before the vampire could even register that it had been impaled, Craig had withdrew the sword and struck three more times. The vampire never hit the ground.  
Craig turned a spin, keeping the demons at bay. They were pressing closer on him. He fought with incredible speed. He could feel the individual molecules of the air parting for him to pass through. Quite a bit of the air was superheated by his passing, causing small explosions of combustion and magic.  
Craig spun, chopping, hacking, slashing...the demons swarmed around him, gaining the lake's shore...and as he fought still faster, a small smile appeared on Craig's face.  
  
Atop the North Tower, Dumbledore now divided himself between the main battle and the situation at the lake. The demons had finally gotten to it. Voldemort was probably on his way down at that very moment. It was up to Harry now.  
As Dumbledore had hoped, the small army of demons that had taken the lake set up a defense perimeter rather than rushing on and attacking the castle.  
"Discontinue shelling them, Lieutenant," Dumbledore said.  
"Sir?" Ain asked, confused.  
"We don't need to provoke them into attacking us from behind," Dumbledore explained. "Discontinue shelling."  
"Discontinuing, sir," Ain said, gritting his teeth.  
Dumbledore looked back at the main battle. As he did, the demons broke away from the Slayers and goblins near the center. A goblin unit used a hinge movement to obliterate the right flank of the demon army. More were coming, but the army was weakened and had had to regroup.  
"Now!" Dumbledore said. "Shell them now, full shrapnel and stunner."  
Ain gave the signal, and the guns all boomed.  
  
Buffy watched as, twenty feet from her, demons started being torn apart by deep, red explosions. But even as the artillery mowed down their ranks, more came hurtling out of the trees.  
More and more and more!  
They were dying by the hundreds. The dust from the explosions and the dead vampires was obscuring everyone's vision. The dust mixed with flying blood and gore, turning the battlefield to a red smog.  
The smog drifted in and around the Slayers. And even as the demons' ranks were ripped apart by artillery fire, they charged.  
  
Ain had to shout to be heard over the noise of the artillery. "Sir, we're nearing the end of our ammunition. The canisters are nearly drained."  
Dumbledore cursed silently. He strode from his vantage point over to the large canisters which contained the odd, mystical substance used to fuel the magical artillery. The canisters were nearly empty.  
"Save what is left!" Dumbledore shouted. "We may need it more later!"  
Ain nodded; at least understanding his commanding officers decision this once. Ain gave the order to stop firing.  
The guns went silent.  
  
Faith heard the guns stop firing. Several of the wizards near her cast spells that blew away the smog from the exploding shells.  
The battlefield was covered with bodies. Demons had been ripped apart by the artillery, spreading out there body parts and inner intestines and mixing them with those of others. No part of the field wasn't soaked in blood. Amongst the demons were bodies of wizards, goblins, and Slayers who had died as well.  
There was a momentarily calm. Faith began to hope, in that second of quiet, that they'd pushed back Voldemort's army. Then, the trees parted way for more demons to come flooding in. Just as many as the last time.  
Faith steeled herself and ordered a charge. She knew that it was becoming more and more hopeless. They were going to lose at this rate.  
  
Professor McGonagall's voice suddenly boomed out over the noise made by the crowd of students in the Great Hall. "There is a chance that the school will very shortly be invaded by vampires," she said. Before everyone could begin shrieking, she continued. "Some of them may appear to be people you knew. Do not hesitate to stake them on sight; they're no longer your friends."  
Hermione looked at Ron. He'd gone pale, too.  
  
Harry suddenly became aware of a slight buzzing that punctuated the near silence. His vampiric hearing was a lot better than his human hearing had been.  
Out of thin air popped the form of Lord Voldemort. Voldemort didn't take any notice of Harry, instead heading directly for the pedestal.  
Harry could have reacted faster, stopped him. But he remembered that the pedestal could only be sent away once the ritual was started. He had to wait.  
Voldemort withdrew a bag of soil from his robes and poured it into the top of the pedestal. The pedestal began to glow, casting odd shadowy glimmers against the outer layer of the bubble. Then the pedestal began to spin.  
Voldemort turned to face Harry. "When that pedestal is done revolving, the ritual will be complete and I will rule Hogwarts. Scared?"  
Harry smiled, his vampiric face emerging. "Not in the slightest," he said, and lunged.  
Voldemort turned away from Harry's lunge and pulled out his wand. "Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort yelled.  
The Killing Curse hit Harry full force, point blank. The curse threw Harry across the enclosure, landing him close to the bubble. He felt limp for a moment. Then, his strength returned to him.  
"Hello, genius, I'm already dead!" Harry said. Harry began advancing back towards Voldemort.  
Voldemort was enraged at the ineffectualness of Avada Kedavra. "Crucio!" he spat.  
The curse hit Harry just as it always had. But this time, something was different. Two something's. The pain didn't seem to matter so much. And he could feel an almost tangible line between himself and Voldemort. The curse required large amounts of strength. Harry could feel Voldemort expending energy. And he could feel himself growing weaker, as well, because the curse, despite his resilience, was also draining him of energy.  
He had to complete the ritual while he still could.  
Harry forced himself to take a step forward. Slowly, inch by inch, he neared Voldemort, whose eyes grew wider with every step Harry took. When he deemed Harry too close, Voldemort attempted to break the curse and run.  
It was too late by then. Harry lunged and caught Voldemort by the back. Harry violently pushed Voldemort's head to the side, exposing his neck, and drank.  
When Voldemort was nearly drained, and getting towards the point where his anti-death magic would come into play, Harry stopped. He slit his own wrist with one of his fangs and pressed the freely bleeding cut to Voldemort's lips. Voldemort drank.  
As he did, and began to die, Harry dragged him towards the pedestal. He leaned Voldemort's nearly vampiric body over the pedestal, propped against Harry's body so as not to actually touch the furiously spinning platform. Then, Harry withdrew his Hunga Munga from where he'd concealed it in the back of his robes.  
He slit Voldemort's throat. Then he slit his own.  
Their mixed blood, not quite human and not quite demon, not quite good and not quite evil, flowed down onto the platform. It stopped violently, and the world started to shake. Harry dropped Voldemort onto the pedestal, which now glowed an bright white, and black out himself.  
  
On the surface, the earthquake came suddenly. Buffy lost her footing and went down, landing on top of several cut up body parts. The demon army faltered, not knowing what was going on for the first time in the whole battle.  
At that moment, a convoy of flying carpets arrived. Off of them jumped men in combat gear, all carrying wands or staffs. Angel leapt off the lead one.  
Buffy ran to him. "Angel!" she yelled.  
Angel turned to her. He was smiling. "Sorry we couldn't get here earlier," he said. "Something was holding us back, like we couldn't get into the grounds."  
"Whatever!" Buffy yelled. "You're here! That's what counts. Now lets rout these demonic sons of bitches!"   
"I take that personally, you know," Angel said. He turned to his troops. "All right, men. This is it. Charge!"  
  
As it turned out, the demon army had been tied almost directly to Voldemort. No one was entirely sure how Voldemort had managed to regulate so many minds at one, but then again, many of Voldemort's secrets were unfathomable.  
Angel's reinforcements turned the tides on the demons. Without the leadership they were receiving from Voldemort's mind, they became confused, disorganized, and in many cases, reverted to their self-servicing natures. They ran, and the Slayer's and Angel's forces, along with those that remained of the wizards and goblins, gave chase. They didn't really have to - the demons were done with their attack.  
In all, they'd managed to get within twenty feet of the outer walls of Hogwarts.  
In the aftermath, the body of Harry Potter was found on the shore of the lake, washed up in the same location he'd entered the lake from.  
When Harry awoke, he didn't know where he was. He was in the middle of a small, dark room, on a bed. There were no windows; the light was provided by a half dozen torches in raised braziers.  
Harry got up out of bed, to find Ginny sitting a the foot of it. "Ginny...?" Harry asked. "What...where am I?"  
"Hogwarts," Ginny said, looking relieved that he was finally awake. "We won, Harry."  
He leapt out bed and grabbed her up in a big hug. "That's great news, Ginny!" he yelled.  
Ginny, however, wasn't smiling. "What's wrong?" Harry asked. He let go of her, allowing her to back away.  
Ginny had sworn to herself that she wasn't going to cry. But she had to. "Oh, Harry, you're dead now!" she wailed. "And the moment you died, the bond between us started to weaken. We're not going to be able to share a soul for much longer."  
Harry took that in slowly. He couldn't imagine himself turning evil. Then again, he wasn't altogether sure who or what he was anymore. "So...can't Willow restore my soul?" he asked, fearing what the answer might be.  
"She can," Ginny said. "She already has, in fact. But now you have the same restrictions as Angel. One moment of true happiness..."  
Harry saw immediately where she was going. He reached out to her. She reached out to him, smiling through her tears, because she wanted to feel him again after what seemed to be so long. Their hands met, and their fingers entwined.  
They drew closer, embracing tightly. They kissed passionately through it all. When the kiss was broken, Ginny said, "You're soul..."  
"I know," Harry responded. "But I love you, Ginny."  
Harry recoiled suddenly, shaking his head. Something about this was very familiar...  
Harry whirled suddenly, catching Ron's thrust before the wooden stake could enter his back. Harry twisted, and the stake fell to the floor.  
"Get back, Ginny!" Ron yelled.  
"Ron, stop being a prat!" Ginny yelled, before Harry could say it. "Willow returned his soul!"  
"Huh?" Ron said, and he stopped struggling against Harry's incredible grip for a moment. "Say what?"  
"He's not evil," Ginny said. "Now could you give us some privacy? And when I tell you I'm going to see a boy, don't always follow me, okay?"  
Ron disengaged himself from Harry, muttering, "I just wanted to see a friend..."  
He left the room through the open doorway.  
Harry turned back to Ginny. She was crying again. "Harry...you know what this means," she said.  
"No, I don't," Harry said, stubbornly defiant. "I don't know what it means. We saved the world, we survived...and now we can be together. I understand that."  
"But that's not how it is, Harry," Ginny said, crying more and more. "You know that we can't be together now."  
Harry started crying too. "I..." he started, but couldn't go on.  
"Voice of reason, remember?" Ginny asked, sobbing now.  
"Good-bye, then," he said, and left the room before anything more could happen. He didn't think he could stand it if anything more did happen.  
  
Harry ran into Dumbledore outside of the room. "Hello, Harry," Dumbledore said. He appeared to have aged by several hundred years since Harry had last seen him. "You really aught to be in bed."  
"I'm fine," Harry said. "I was just leaving, actually."  
"Leaving?" Dumbledore asked.  
"Yes, leaving," Harry said. "Leaving Hogwarts."  
Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, I had expected this," he said. "Harry, I want you to understand that there will always be a place for you at Hogwarts. No matter what you become."  
Harry nodded. There were several hundred bitter things he had to say to Dumbledore, but he resisted, because there was one thing on his mind. "Professor," he said. "Before I go, I have a question."  
"If it is within my power to answer, then I shall," said Dumbledore.  
"I've been having dreams for months about Ron staking me as a vampire. It almost just happened, but I managed to stop it, because I realized that the dream was coming true. What was happening?" he asked.  
Dumbledore considered, then smiled when he realized what it meant. "The Powers that Be sent you those dreams, Harry," Dumbledore said. "They read the signs, that you would be killed by Ron if you won the battle against Voldemort. So they sent you those messages, to warn you."  
"But why?" Harry asked. "If I'd already won, why would they bother to keep me around?"  
"Because you still have a role to play, Harry," Dumbledore said.   
Harry didn't smile. He didn't nod. He simply left. His time would come...again...and how would fight...again.  
With a heavy heart, Harry Potter left Hogwarts for the last time.  
  
THE END 


	28. Epilouge

Here it is: by popular demand, I guess, the epilogue to Slayers and Sixth Years. Please note that since I'm writing this epilogue, there won't be any sequel. There wasn't a plan for a sequel anyway, but look out for the SASY prequel, AWA, coming soon.  
  
After it was over, everyone had to take stock of what was left of their lives and rebuild, or start anew. Things would never be the same, obviously, and in most cases, things would never be easy or innocent again.  
Craig's body was pulled out of the masses Slayers looking for survivors. He'd died with the same smile on his face. At his funeral, Dumbledore spoke of how he was now with the only person who he'd ever really cared about.  
Dumbledore was asked by the public to become the next Minister of Magic. This time, to avoid another unfortunate experience of the likes of Cornelius Fudge, he accepted. One of his first actions was to move the Ministry from London to Hogsmeade, so that he could keep a closer eye on Hogwarts. Six years after becoming Minister of Magic, Dumbledore had a stroke and died.  
Buffy and Giles settled in at Hogwarts in new accommodations built on the battlefield. They set to work rebuilding the Watcher's Council in peacetime and eventually built a completely new training complex for the Slayer's in the Forbidden Forest. Both Buffy and Giles lived long, healthy lives, and died of natural causes.  
Faith and the rest spent the rest of their time aiding Buffy and Giles in building up the council. Faith took Xander and Andrew and set up a foreign office for the Watcher's Council in LA, with the assistance of Angel and Wolfram and Hart. Faith lived to the age of thirty-nine, when she was killed by a Fyarl demon.  
Wolfram and Hart turned out to have evil intentions for Angel his gang, of course, and after a few months of bloody struggle between Angel's faction of the firm and the loyalists, Angel won out and destroyed the Senior Partners, giving him full, unhindered control of Wolfram and Hart. This all happened long after the deaths of the humans involved in the battle for Hogwarts.  
Ginny Weasley eventually graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She never managed to get over Harry's departure, not completely, and chose to take a posting as Slayer in a nameless foreign country. She died there, victim of a vampire attack, at age twenty-two.  
Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger married shortly after leaving Hogwarts. Hermione took a job teaching at Hogwarts, and Ron became Dumbledore's personal assistant. When the old man died, Ron succeeded him as Minister of Magic, with lots of help from his wife, of course. Despite several assassination attempts, Ron and Hermione both lived well past a hundred, spending quite a bit of that time guarding the magical world against further insurrection.  
Harry Potter left Hogwarts the same day he saved the world. He roamed the world for a time, unable to figure out what to do with himself. Eventually, he went to LA to fight the forces of evil with Angel at Wolfram and Hart. Two hundred years later, when the apocalypse was nearly brought on by the Senior Partners of Wolfram and Hart, Angel achieved his redemption and was turned into a human. He died sixty years later, leaving Harry in charge of Wolfram and Hart.  
And to this day, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, fights evil as a vampire with a soul. 


End file.
